Nan pities fool

The woman ahead of me at the checkout, fake-tanned fifty-five, was with her two grandchildren; boys aged four and five with almost matching outfits. The bigger kid asked for sweets from the checkout display, and Nan said yes. After grabbing some Smarties, the kid was transfixed by a POS ad for Snickers.

“Nan, Nan, who’s that?”
“That’s Mr T.”
“Who?”
“You know, Mr T - ‘I pity the fool, I pity the fool, I pity the fool, I pity the fool’“

She affected an accent, so each ‘I pity the fool’ became ‘Ah pity tha fooo,’ and used a gruff Mr T voice, getting deeper and louder each time.

The smaller kid clung to Nan throughout.