H: (thrashing in his blankets) I’m hit! I’m hit!
M: No, you’re not.
H: (stops moving) I’m not?
M: Nope, you’re all good.
M: You okay babe?
H: Yeah, I’m okay.
H: (farts loudly) Nooooooooooooooooo…
M: (trying really hard not to laugh out loud)
[A few seconds pass and the fan blows it up into his face]
H: Augh! Nnggha! (starts thrashing around in his blanket)
M: (starts laughing uncontrollably)
H: Are you crying? Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. No crying. (pats my shoulder)
H: Shh, shh… Can you hear that? Someone’s in the house.
M: No one is in the house but us, babe.
H: They’ve come to kill us. No wait… just you. They’re bus drivers.
M: Why would bus drivers–
H: Shh, shh… It’s gonna be okay.