“Are you going to wear that thing again?”

“You mean my ruby-red chinstrap that I wear for interplanetary travel? Or to keep my mouth from flapping open?”

“And those mitts?”

“Wonderful soiled gloves I wear for reading the New York Times or creaming my delicate paws? Or doing both at the same time?

“How about adding my goggles in case I have a sudden desire for a swim in the middle of the night? And pollen mask? AND the mitts.”

“You’re being difficult. You know you won’t wear them all.”

Sulk.