the mischief maker

Sunday lunch was tuna fish sandwiches. Bleck. I hate the taste, smell, and look of tuna. (a tad guilty here, since there are starving people worldwide who would love a tuna fish sandwich.) Picky me had a turkey sandwich instead. Anyway, after lunch, I was on the couch and Melody came up and climbed on my lap. and she knows FULL WELL that I hate the smell of tuna which she had just eaten. She proceeded to give me lots of kisses on my face, then stationed herself smack in front of my nose and purposefully breathed her fishy-smelling breath in the drawn out announcement "Tuuunnaaa fisssssshhhess onnnn yourrr faaaaacccce," while laughing hysterically. It was awful.