*Jill calls Lill at work*
Jill: Hey, how’s your Monday morning going?
Lill: Ugh, I just spent 20 minutes picking regurgitated Cheerio splatter out of my hair and clothes.
Jill: Eww, seriously? What happened?
Lill: An elevator ride from pre-school hell – someone’s offspring upchucked all over an executive and her marvelous shoes.
Jill: Aww, poor little tyke.
Lill: Pfft, poor little Pradas.