One of the fictions in our household is that I am somehow the master of making coffee. In general, the division of labor in our house is that Hank does the vast majority of the cooking, I do the vast majority of the dish washing, and Daisy handles almost all of the choreography. However, long ago Hank started praising my ability to pour water and coffee grounds into the coffee maker, so I have taken on that "cooking" chore.
Of course I realize that I'm not actually superior at pressing the "On" button on the coffee maker, but every marriage has its lies, and this is one of ours. I have accepted the mantle of Chief Coffee Maker.
So, the other day when Hank attempted to grind the coffee beans on her own, I clucked disapprovingly at how she tapped the side of the grounds container.
"I can barely watch you do that," I sighed in annoyance, "It's like watching a dog try to use a supercomputer."
"No, please, allow me to assist," I offered. I then barked and growled authoritatively at the coffee grinder.
Daisy overheard all of this and busted up.
"I want to help!" she said, "Rarararararararararara!"
"Oh my god! Was that you trying to bark?" I asked Daisy.
"Jesus. That was TERRIBLE! It didn't even sound like a dog. You might as well have quacked at us. Or said, 'I can help. Mooooooooooo!'" I explained, shaking my head in disbelief.
Daisy literally flopped over in hysterics. She gets that way. She's an all-or-nothing laugher.
So, now we've got a new bit of shtick we do. When Hank operates some machine, or undertakes some task, I say, "I got this, sweetie" and then bark repeatedly. Daisy then begins mooing insistently.
Then we all laugh, and I am about as happy as I get.