It's wicked to mock the afflicted

“He’s my oldest’s first born. His name is Neil.”
“How do you like being a grandma?”
“Ahh. I’ve gone off him lately. Well. Look at him. He’s a right fatty, isn’t he? They’re all cute when their babbling and dribbling on themselves, a lot like my husband, but he’s two now, and the little porker has gotten willful. If I hear ‘no’ one more time he’s going into the cupboard until his mom comes to get him.”