H: We gotta go get in the car so we can go to Mexico.
M: But I don’t want to go to Mexico.
H: We gotta buy a baby. They’re cheap down there. Or some cheese, either one.
H: (like he’s explaining something obvious to a stupid person) To melt…
H: I’ll have you know.
M: … … have me know what?
H: I’ll ffff… fart in your car. Like giving birth to hate. Surprise.
H: Buy me a car.
M: You wish!
H: I’m gonna open up a checking account and take you to dinner.
M: It’s a date!
H: Come here.
H: I need to teach you a code.
M: A code for what?
H: Yeah. It’s Up Down Up Down B A B A Select Start.
M: What does that do?
H: You get jerked off by a bus.
M: What?! Like the bus itself?
I am sitting in the living room and watching television after he’d gone to bed. He comes shuffling out into the living room, then walks into the kitchen and turns all of the lights on.
M: Hey babe. Whatcha doin’?
H: (mumbling) I can’t remember where I parked the car.
M: I think you parked it in bed. You should go look there.
H: Nono, it was here… (blinks a bit) What am I doing out here?
M: Looking for your car, apparently.
H: (chuckles) I have no idea what I’m doing out here.
M: You should go back to bed.
H: Yeah, good idea.
H: What are you doing here?
M: I’m going to sleep.
H: But you said you hated me and then hit me with your car.
M: I’m pretty sure I’ve done neither of those things.
H: I think it was the yogurt.
H: It’s a secret.
M: What is?
H: The picture of our kids.
H: Shhh, shhh… You’re good now. You’re good. (pats my arm)
H: Watch out!
M: For what?
H: The falling car.
M: Where’d it come from?
H: The sky.
M: Okay, but why is it up there?
H: I don’t know.
H: I swear.