Yesterday I was babysitting a little guy, and we walked down to the park for awhile to play. As we were about to leave, I heard a little girl crying. Assuming that her mom was close by, I didn't think about it too hard, until I realized that the poor darling had locked herself inside the bathroom. A nice English lady come over to help, and she managed to get the door open, saying "it's ok, sausage, it's ok." I think if I was locked inside an ugly, dirty public washroom, I would like to be rescued by a lady who called me "sausage." It feels me with warm comforting feelings, as most food does.