James: Tonight is so calm and great. You are reading, the dog is chillin' on the bed. There is classical music playing...
Me: I know. It's nice.
James: We should blow something up. OR SET SOMETHING ON FIRE!
Me: Wha...wait, no. Why?
James: Do you have some old jeans you could burn?
[I ignore him and continue to read]
James: Hey...stop ignoring me!
[I turn a page, still ignoring him]
James [pouting]: That's my book, so you can't read it unless I say so...[grabs at it]...gimmi it.
Me [still reading]: Try to take it from me. Find out what happens.
[There is a moment of silence. James rolls over and starts to scratch his back, his face half buried in the pillow]
James [muffled voice]: What if every time you scratched my back it was just zits?
[He lifts his head]
James: Like you scratch and just get a handful of pus.
Me: Calm down there, Satan.
