Francis: Happy Dad’s day! To tha thin man! Simon: you’re a good dad. Francis: You’re an OLD man! Simon: Everyday you go to Job. It sounds rough. Francis: But this week you went to the Doctor. I’m cheerius…Is it aliens? Are you gonna get the draft? Ack! You caught the ugly? Do you have to go to a carpenter? Lay it on us…don’t hold back…I can take it…who’s gonna feed me snax? Ethan: curious, you’re curious…also…you really don’t know what a doctor is do you? Simon: Is it your trachea? Is it collapsing? Like Garf’s ?? Dad can you breathe? Ethan: Hold it! Everybody just hold it…As it turns out…I have to prove I am human and I will have to continue to go back to the doc to select traffic lights, bicycles and other oddities. I will also have to continue to write poetry very poorly. But they are gonna let that slide…for now. Francis: I knews it. . . Ethan: Now, who wants to help me eat these pizza rolls? Francis: Is this a twix question?
Ethan: I don’t care what you thought you saw, you have to come inside now and take a bath. Or I can just use the water hose… Simon: It was really there though, it was a ground hog, dad. I can smell it. I have to go find it. Ethan: It’s not gonna happen, man. Francis: I was there, kind of, through the windows, it boxed at his nose… Francis: Face it…he’s not into the poems…He’s into the wrestling… Ethan: Oh god…. Simon: You gotta let me be a hound dog, dad. I gotta use my nose. Francis: Let him joins the circus. Ethan: Let me tell you both a story about the digging-est dog…
Francis: Heya wassup. Ethan: man, I don’t know what was in the air today, but it was busy… Simon: (sniffs air) some pizza, some bacon, some eggos, Ethan: that’s what’s in the fridge… Simon: Oh… Francis: Sit down, fluff up, drink a beers… Ethan: wait, what did y’all DO while I was gone??? Simon: ….. Francis: we napped, and we watched doctor who’s and simons threw up in the bed…and we played with the tennis ball… Ethan: wait! Ahhh man…you want a popsicle? Francis: I want purple! Ethan: Not you,you’re fine… Francis: (cough cough) oh no’s no’s no’s no’s..I gots the sick. Simon: I don’t believe he’s ever been sick. Ethan: Well, he’s never ate from the trash.
Simon: We have here, the sad poet, in his natural habitat. Francis: Lost! The wordy words! The alphabits! Ethan: Guys, I’m literally, right here… Simon: uh hey dad, so it’s almost natural poetry month. Ethan: National. Simon: BananaWrimo! Ethan: Oh god…that’s novel month and it’s in November. Francis: You better find your wordy words. Simon: A poem a day! All Month! Francis: Or you can paws a poem on stagez! Or memories one. Ethan: Oh god….I need a drink.
Simon: Oh is that O-E-Os? Ethan: Yeah man. Simon: I can’t remember if I like those or not… Ethan: seriously? Simon: I probably do tho. Ethan: You ate a whole pack yesterday. I had to buy more today. Simon: Well,gee dad. That was yesterday’s nose. It’s different everyday.