“You sure have a sense of entitlement.”
—What do you mean?
“You know I’ve been sick, and surely you must have known I didn’t sleep well last night, and yet if it’s past 7:00, you’re being denied your precious breakfast and you start jumping around like a pogo stick on crack.”
—Um, I had an urgent bladder issue . . .
“You did not: you were last outside in the early a.m. because I couldn’t get to sleep.”
—Are you sure?
“Don’t give me that innocent act. Now lie down while I’m writing She With Whom You Used to Abide . . .”
“I keep telling you, your behavior lately is making a new puppy look pretty enticing, even one as big and rambunctious as that Kolby dog.”
—I don’t think so . . .
“You don’t sound very convincing. In fact, I think she’s even considering a kitten.”
—Now I know you’re lying: She With Whom I Abide definitely does not like cats. Like all sane creatures.
“Yeah, well, you’re making them look like the better deal, that’s all.”
— . . .
“Speaking of entitlement, what’s with you leaving the living room to go poach bed space when I’m out of the house, and when I’ve definitely not given you permission?”
—I was warming it up for you?
“Right, hours before I ever go to bed? Besides, you were warming up the wrong side.”
—Um, one of those grapes you’re eating would really help me think about this more clearly.
“Just lie down Entitlement Boy.”