Let me preface this with the fact that the Kid is going through a bit of a possessive streak where toys, food and people (ahem, "MY DADDY!") are hers and hers alone.
Stage Left: MrDrama and Dr Drama are canoodling on the other side of the ginormous Christmas tree so we can snog in relative privacy. The Kid spies us...
The Kid: No! My Daddy!
DrDrama (always super-mature...): No! I saw him first. (DrDrama wraps her arms around MrDrama's waist.)
The Kid: Miiiiiiiineeeee! Daddeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!
DrDrama (cackling maliciously and moving offstage towards the hallway): Still mine. (I am nothing of not a stellar example of parenting. Dr. Sears, eat your heart out.)
The Kid (now yelling): Wahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! My Daddeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!
(MrDrama and DrDrama exit stage left and wait for an eruption, but then remember that the Wonderpets are on the TV.)
DrDrama (calling from offstage): Miiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine!
Complete silence only found when a toddler is hypnotized by cartoons.
DrDrama: Sorry, babe, you've been sold out for the Wonderpets.