They sat on the sunny porch.

"Drop it," he said.

"Drop it," she said.

"Seriously, stop!"

"Seriously, stop!"

He sighed, and passed her half a two-stick popsicle.

"Look, kiddo," he said, "either you'll slowly get bored, or I'll stymie this puerile diversion with longwinded elitist linguistic constructions."

She grinned.

"Better," he said.

"Better," she said.