Beloved: I want some biscuits.
Prudence: If you hadn't gobble-gutsed all your biscuits, you could have had some. I'll share my peaches with you.
Beloved: (in a slightly whiney voice) I don't want a peach, I want biscuits!
Prudence: (with exaggerated calm) You promised to make a packet last all week, and you scoffed them all three days in. You've only yourself to blame.
Beloved: (with a trace of triumph) I didn't promise, I had my fingers crossed.
At which Prudence had to concede defeat and Beloved went off to the supermarket to buy TWO packets of biscuits.