A few minutes ago the conversation went like this:
Mum: Wow, there's a sparrowhawk sitting on the garden fence.
Mojo: Wow, Mum is eating a chicken and ham slice.
Mum: (grabbing camera) If I get to the other window I might be able to catch a photo.
Mojo: (grabbing pie) Mmmm nom nom nom
Mum: NO! BAD GIRL!
Mojo: Why don't you swap out the 70mm lens for the 300mm one?
Mum: Good idea.
Mojo: nom nom nom
Mojo: I was only cleaning up the crumbs I dropped the first time.
Mum: Aw, now look - the bird's gone.
Mojo: Still a bit of pie left. You won't want it now it's got fluff from the floor stuck to it.
Mum: Want a bet?
Mojo: Anyway, that's a really blurry shot.
Mum: That's because I was shooting through a window covered in dog nose marks.
Mojo: Blame me for everything, why don't you? Just because I chased that pheasant across the field this morning, and yeah, OK, I did run off and swim a stream the other day to chase a deer, but it was running off anyway, and sure, I've dug all the stuffing out of the futon again and I can't help it if my puppy farts are so evil you want to get out of the car and let me drive myself home. But you're just having a bad photography day and it's not my fault.
Mum: (sigh) I know. And you're so cute.