Tonight, We Take Prague!

This morning, like all mornings, Penelope was scampering around the house, making last-minute preparations for departure as I brushed my teeth. There's always a heightened sense of importance surrounding those moments, a mild thrill of anticipation while we make sure all systems are go for our creeping launch out of the garage. Yelling and speedwalking are often involved, so there's something of a rush, in all senses of the word.
So I'm squeezing the toothpaste when I hear her in the kitchen, flinging open the door to the freezer, then the refrigerator. Both are quickly whammed shut and I'm informed, loudly: "Tonight we have salmon!"
"Okay," I say, and quietly chortle to myself as I go about frothing up my mouth, mindful of the fresh coating of vanilla nut coffee I'm removing. She skids into the bathroom as the fish begins thawing, and her eyes search all horizontal surfaces for hair gear or assorted baubles she might have forgotten. I'm watching her in the mirror, and she feels my look. "What's funny?" she asks.
"Nmthng," I reply through a foam of extreme herbal mint colgate. "Tsjusthat..." (I spit.) "...It's just that I love that future-present tense. It sounds all military, somehow. Like a declaration."
"Oh." She swivels on one foot and blasts toward the living room. Word humor is generally lost on visual artists, and I can accept that.
Still laughing to myself, I call out over her shoulder, "Tonight, we take Prague!"
She starts giggling too, and I know I've hit on what's funny about the whole situation, to both of us. Penny zooms around the house for the very last once-over, laughing, and assuring our dog and both cats in the booming voice of a natural leader that, tonight, we will take Prague.