Francis: This builds poetry? Where’s the wordy words?
Simon: Wait wait, I’ve got this one dad.
Simon: Goooood morrrrrrrning sandmountain!
Simon: How’s that?
Ethan: Not bad.
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…
Ethan: Well, we made it buddy.
Simon: We did?
Francis: Frashasha! (Plays drums)
Ethan: This is our 300th!
Simon: Oh boy! What’s a 300?
Ethan: We’ve been through a lot together…
Simon: Here’s a sniff back…I was saving that one…
Ethan: it was funny.
Francis: I’m buying you both a jokes book…
Francis: Spring Breaks!
Ethan: From what? You don’t DO anything…
Francis: Snax! Naps!
Ethan: Isn’t that what you do everyday?
Francis: Yeah,but we do it harder.
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…
Francis: Sit down, fluff up, drink a beers…
Ethan: wait, what did y’all DO while I was gone???
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: 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: Hey dad! Thanks for doing a good job at job! You’re a great hunter! Best buds for life!
Francis: your profession is a joke and you disappoint me. Now, hit me with a snax.