Recently I was in a local museum, walking from painting to painting. There was a couple ahead of me admiring the paintings.
“I will tell you, Carla. The woman does not look happy,” the man said.
“But, George, that’s cause she’s dead,” Carla said, then pinched her friend.
“Ouch! Why did you do that?”
Carla laughed. “Checking to see if you’re alive.”
“I’m alive? Of course, I’m alive,” George objected.
“You wouldn’t be happy if you were dead either.”
He stuck his tongue out at her, then said, “Then I wouldn’t have to put up with you.”
Carla puckered her lips. “Give us a kiss.” Her lips came close to George. He tried to move away. “C’mon. Give us a kiss, then I can bite that tongue off.”
He backed away from her. “You’d do that.”
“Course I would cause you’re such a downer.”
They took one final look at the Roman matriarch, then moved on.