I was standing by the gate, and Bridget stuck her head over so she could play the pull-the-glove-off-June's-hand game. After removing the glove and waving it around for a while, she dropped it on the ground on her side of the gate.
I leaned over, reaching my hand toward the glove, making pathetic noises.
Bridget picked it up again, put her head back over to my side of the gate, and let me take the glove.
Needless to say, I waxed ecstatic in her praises. She probably thinks I'm a complete nutter.