Never tickle a woman's ass when she's drinking grapejuice

As Sarah is drinking grape juice from the plastic grape juice container. That's a treasured indulgence for her. The first taste of freshly made grape juice from the chalice (or plasitc container as it is) that it was frozen in. It's something meconium I guess.
I sneak up behind her.
"Hey! NEVER tickle a woman's woman's ass when she's drinking grape juice"
She hands me the drink. A gesture not lost on me. It's like sharing that last can of Mt. Dew on hot summer day when the caffeine shakes are starting to set in. It's Love baby.
"Hey!! Never tickle a MAN'S ass when HE'S drinking grape juice."
"Nope. It doesn't go both ways"
"They're grapes baby, they always go both ways"
"Nuh-uh. You do."

See, that's the sort or rapier sharp verbal sparring that takes place after we do something as cultured as going out to see an Oscar Wilde play.