I never realized what a poet the neighbourhood crazy man is.

While walking home with Satchel and Jakob, taking advantage of a gorgeous afternoon by stopping by Starbucks for their child's size hot chocolate with whip cream and lots of chocolate sprinkles, there he was in front of us, muttering away.

Sheer brilliance, this little number:

"God bless Adolph Hitler
For he invented lemonade
And the dish ran away with the spoon."

Then he noticed us behind him, following him down streets and around corners.

He yelled:

"Good looking wicked woman! Say that five times fast! Good looking wicked woman, good looking wicked woman..."

I said to the boys that I do believe I just received a back-handed compliment.