He'd just gotten in the door and she was already starting in on him.
"The back steps are really starting to sag. You need to fix that."
This brought a groan from him. "I've been working all day and now I've got a toothache!"
She folded her arms and looked him over, in that way that always drove him nuts. "Your toothache is so bad that it keeps you from fixing the back porch?"
"Actually, it is!" he exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air and pacing around the entrance way. "Yes. My toothache is so bad that I can't fix the back porch right now."
"I see..." She eyed him cooly. "And what if I said that I had a toothache," with this she motioned back to the kitchen, "and so I can't make your supper tonight?"
His tail slapped loudly on the floor of the lodge. "Honey you know it's not the same thing. This tooth -" And now he pointed at his big beaver tooth jutting out from his upper jaw. "Is what built this entire place, isn't it?" He finished by twirling around, arms outstretched, before collapsing sullenly into his favorite chair.
She softened a bit. "Well maybe I'll see if we have some mint I can add to your supper. That always seems to help."
"That way you can fix the back porch sooner." Then she turned away and headed for the kitchen.
He groaned again and slapped his tail.
Written in five minutes from the writing prompt, "Tothache" as part of the #freewrite exercise. Image is also by me. You can view the prompt here and check out the other entries; these writers are a very industrious bunch. Thanks to @mariannewest for creating and maintaining the structural integrity for this writing challenge.