Will you come play?
When Emy wants to play, she walks up to her daddy, sits downs and just.... looks. She has perfected the penetrating, guilt-inducing stare. Her daddy, being perfectly trained by now, gets up and either gets one of the myriad feather toys in the den or the rubber ball (we've got about 20 of these and can usually only find about 4 of them at a time).
If he just reaches down and pets her she allows only one stroking, then sidles towards the den (aka the cat playroom) and looks over her shoulder - she's quite a minx.
Methinks she is a bit spoiled (but only a bit).