I sit at my desk and listen to my two favorite house guests.

“Popcorn,” the Countess demands, “We need some popcorn in order to watch the movie.”

Murphy harumphs.

“Why don’t you go make some?” she suggests as politely as she can.

“You’ll start it without me you silly wench,” replies the Countess. Murphy growls, a little rumble in her throat, she hates it when the Countess calls her that.

“Nick, are you going into kitchen?” Murphy asks hopefully as I pass the sofa, headed in that direction.

“If I was, I’m not now,” I answer and turn back the way I came, giving the two women a sly smile. The Countess laughs. Murphy can’t hide the laugh in her eyes despite her frown.

I just wish they could get along. I keep thinking that if I leave them together, they might learn a bit of respect for one another. Poor Murphy, she tries so hard.

But whatever Murphy wants, the Countess wants the opposite, thinks the opposite, does the opposite. They start the movie, glaring into the screen, without popcorn.