A: Let's go eat at Samurai Sam's. We can share a noodle bowl and a Dr. Pepper.
B: DR. PEPPER?! YEAH! Let's do that. Cuz I love you. I don't want to hurt your feelings.
B: Mom, smoking is bad.
A: Yep, it sure is. You don't have my permission to smoke.
B: I'll NEVER smoke. I'll smoke one a day. When I'm six.
A: (to B, as he's just bossed me around) You've got the pecking order wrong. I'm the pecker.
(Back in the day, my family drove everywhere. As in, EVERYWHERE. California. Indiana. The East Coast. Vancouver. We were on a budget and had the time, so we drove. And to get us interested in what was going on OUTSIDE the car, Dad would promise a dollar to whoever saw a deer/antelope/elk before he did. Seeing as he was driving and is a hunter, the man rarely had to pay out. Still, it was a useful distraction tool for us argumentative money-grubbers, so I have used it on B, even though he doesn't have anyone to argue with yet. He hasn't quite gotten the concept down fully.)
A: Look at all those deer! (pointing to a small herd behind an office building in town)
B: I saw them!
Do I get a dollar now?