Scene: The kitchen. I am washing dishes while Rose, Zoe, and our yellow lab keep me company.
Rose: Thanks for making scones this morning.
Me: You're welcome. Blah, blah, blah...
*Sound of a spitball flying across the room behind me*
Yellow lab moves surreptitiously to the corner of the kitchen and eats something off the floor.
Me: Did you just spit the end of your scone across the room for the dog to eat?!?!
Rose: holding up Zoe to demonstrate My hands were full!
Me: You are a five-year-old boy!
Rose: spits again
Yellow lab, ready for it this time, catches the hunk of scone out of the air and noms it down.
Rose: Look, she caught it!
I am paralyzed.
Rose is laughing.
Me: The two sides of me are at war over whether to be appalled or impressed. I think they just tied.