Me: Portia! I can’t believe you ate a bag of M&M’s and 30 icy squares!
Portia: Whatev’s. You left it on the counter.
Me: Don’t you learn? You were sick as a… well… dog!
Portia: I see no correlation between eating my weight in chocolate at noon and barfing chunks at 3 am. Two totally separate events.
Me: That’s another thing. You threw up in your brother’s bed!
Portia: Whatev’s. It’s not like he was in it at the time.
Me: So not the point, missy.
Portia: Is this going to take long? I have to go out. I ate an entire loaf of bread this afternoon.
Me: Gasp! Sputter! What?
Portia: It was in the Portia zone. I assumed you wanted me to have it.
Me: Bad dog! Very bad dog!
Portia [looking around]: are you talking to me?