He flopped onto the couch.
"Oof!" he said. "I think I need to take a little break from the PC."
She mumbled something.
"What was that, dear?" he asked.
"You could take a break in the kitchen," she whined.
"Is someone hungry?" he whined back, mocking her raspy, high voice.
"Shh!" she hissed. "Listen!"
There was a pause.
"Did you hear it?" she asked.
"Hear what?" he said.
"My stomach! Listen - there it goes again!"
"What's wrong with your tummy?" he fake-whined again.
"It's GROWLING!"
He took the tone of a parent, desperately trying to maintain their patience with a naughty child.
"Ask me nicely..."
"Pleeeease go coooook..."
"OK, then," he said, but he didn't move.
She stood up and leaned over him, pulling a threatening face and making her hands into claws.
"DON'T MAKE ME TICKLE YOU!" she yelled.
The dog barked, not understanding why he suddenly leapt up and sprinted to the kitchen.
Soon, the smell of frying onions wafted over to the living room.
She smiled.
To read more in this series, click here.