Better than ice cream

What's better than a big dripping ice cream cone on a hot day? Sunday afternoon we went out for ice cream with Grandma. We waited a long time in line for our cones, but were delighted when we finally sat down and began licking. In just a few seconds, IP was covered in chocolate ice cream from the top of his nose to his knees. He giggled and turned to Grandma, "Give me a kiss!" Grandma protested. Then he laughed and said, "Ok, ok how about a nose kiss?" I think that was IP's first joke. We wiped chocolate ice cream off IP's nose, chin, neck, hands, elbows, legs, knees, the table, the seat and me. On our way out of the ice cream parlour, I jokingly said, "Whoa, that was torture." The following Tuesday night, out of the blue, IP asked, "What does torture mean?" "Hmmm...how do I answer this one?" I thought. "Something that is painful," I answered. He didn't get it. One step at a time IP. First master jokes and licking an ice cream cone, then we'll move on to mommy sarcasm.