The other day, while at lunch with Spencer, Alisa, Chandra, Brin and Blake, I was getting just a little bit sick of my little nephew whacking his head repeatedly into my arm. "Blake," I told him sternly, "I don't like it when you do that. I won't want to sit next to you if you keep banging my arm."
Blake considered this ultimatum and--with the perfect certainty of two-year-old logic--smiled charmingly, picked up a fry from his plate, offered it to me and proclaimed, "Here, this will make you happy."
Excellent olive branch.