Pete is chewing on a faux bone, and my mission is to extricate it from his grasp. I don't argue. I don't fight. I simply wait. In our modern age of instant messaging, microwave popcorn and satellite feeds from Kabul, I am righteous in my talent to control my need for instant gratification.

I close my eyes, and eventually turn my head away, feigning disinterest. But I am always listening. It won't be long, and he'll run off to annoy the hell out of Mac. He'll come back, looking forward to continuing his chew, and have that famous look of surprise on his face when he sees his bone in my mouth. Precious!