The bag dropped onto the table, thankfully, and not the ground. The singing was not getting on her nerves, but it was becoming a trademark. She should have expected as much.
Deeta tapped her hands to her thighs, trying not to bunch them into fists when she heard a slightly flat note. If she was in her natural form, a lioness, her ears would be flat against the back of her head. She walked bravely through the house and found Peter dancing. It was so out there that it wasn't bad. And the house cleaning was sweet. Peter was really trying to pitch in at least?
Crossing her arms helped hold in a giggle that was tickling at the back of her throat. She kind of new the song that he was singing, headphones in. Deeta stopped halfway into the room and said loudly, "Peter!"