Riley: Hello, Hoomen. I see you are making a sammich on this frosty morn.
Heather: Yes, I’m making the kids’ lunches.
Riley: Am I mistaken, or do I smell…peanut butter?
Heather: Well, since you shot out of the bedroom as soon as you heard me open the jar, I’m assuming you already know this is peanut butter.
Riley: I enjoy peanut butter immensely.
Heather: Yes, I know.
Riley: So….how about it? I’ll take a spoonful, please. Crunchy, if you have it.
Heather: No, Riley. You’ve been a very naughty girl this morning, and I’m not going to give you a treat just now.
Riley: Whatever do you mean??
Heather: Did you, or did you not, steal my socks this morning?
Riley: I did.
Heather: And weren’t you the doggie who nosed through the trashcan in the bedroom right after the sock incident?
Riley: The very same.
Heather: And didn’t you also steal the sock from Jamie’s foot when we woke him up a few minutes ago?
Riley: That was a good one.
Heather: And, as if all that weren’t reason enough, did you not JUST take the bread twist tie from the counter??
Riley: First of all, quit waving that knife around. Second, a twist tie? I’m not sure what you’re talking about there…
Heather: What did I fish out of your mouth a second ago?
Riley: Um…something blue. Plasticky.
Heather: Yeah, no peanut butter.
Riley: You know I’m a dog, right? I don’t understand delayed punishments like withholding treats. That doesn’t work. I thought we took training classes together?
Heather: No peanut butter.
Riley: You know, many people would say you still do everything for your teenaged kids because you can’t let go, but I’d nominate you Mother of the Year. Look at you, working so hard to make the perfect lunches for your nearly-adult children. I bet you still cut the crusts off, don’t you? I’m impressed, really I am.
Riley: But look at me! I’m sitting so pretty for you! I’m adorable! How can you deny me?
Heather: . . .
Riley: Oh, it’s like that, is it? You’re just going to ignore me? I’m sorry, but I’m afraid you’ve left me no choice. I didn’t want to do this, but…
Ahem…Lady… Look at me. I’m so sweet and precious, your little Riley Girl! Gaze into my warm, brown eyes, Hooman. See the affection I have for you…
Heather: Yes, Riley. I love you, too.
Riley: Well, let’s not be hasty. Love is a very strong word…
Heather: No peanut butter, Riley. Maybe later.
Heather: What the…? GODDAMIT, RILEY! DROP IT!! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, DOG!!!!!
Riley: Phtew! So…where are we on this peanut butter issue?