"Harve, how many times have I asked you to wipe your feet?"

Harve halted so quickly he skidded a few inches. He looked behind him. There was a telltale trail of grimy footprints that led from the kitchen door to his feet.

Maude stood there with her hands on her hips, shaking her head. She

a) laughs and tells him a man's home is his castle.

b) casually but with purpose, pulls out and examines each of her kitchen knives.

c) is mentally torn between a) and b).