Husband is heading out the door for a run. He comes into the kitchen for a goodbye kiss. He and I, we don't "do" the peck-on-the-cheek goodbye kiss. Our motto: If you're going to kiss your sweetie, KISS your sweetie.
Baby Nigel disapproves. His screech is immediate, loud, and demanding. "Get your lips off that cretin, woman, and attend to ME!" Which of course just provokes me, contrary critter that I am. I will not have my love life dictated by a 15-month-old. I remove my lips from my sweetie's long enough to grin at the boy, so he will understand he is being deliberately ignored, then return with renewed enthusiasm to the task at hand.
Because it's important, you know, that a kid understands his place in the grand scheme of things.