fiery bears

(My alarm has gone off and I decide to lay in bed a while longer rather than getting up. This seems to worry my still-sleeping boyfriend.)

H: (patting my arm) The bear says is time drive car.
M: (ignoring)
H: Baby? Baby, the house is on fire.
M: No, it’s not.
H: (points over my shoulder at the corner of the bedroom) Fred Meyer’s is on fire.
M: No, it’s not.



H: I stole the Batmobile, I can drive it.
M: I’m sure you can.
H: Don’t you want to go with me?
M: Sure. Where?
H: Like down the street or something?


H: Take the wallet, but leave my hat. Please!
(the cat knocks something off the nightstand and makes a bunch of noise)
H: What? Why is it so bright out?
M: Go back to sleep.
H: You go drive the Jeep, I don’t always have to do the driving!


M: Do you want me to shut the light off?
H: How am I supposed to drive the submarine like that?
M: Good point.
H: I bought it for a dollar.
M: That’s a good deal!
H: (silent nodding)