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“You’re in charge of finger-painting with her from now on,” said Arthur, studying his efforts critically.
“Oh, are we adding clauses to our official co-parenting contract?” asked Eames. “Because I have a few.”
“It’s just that you’re clearly the artist in the family,” sighed Arthur.
“Darling, it’s finger-painting,” Eames told him, amused. “Your paintings are fine.”
“Pathetic. Lucky’s are way better.”
“Yeah, but Lucky’s a prodigy.”
“True.”
“Speaking of the official co-parenting contract, can I invoke the sex clause?”
“You know we don’t have an official co-parenting contract, right?”
“But we can have sex anyway.”
“I’ll allow it,” said Arthur.
“Oh, are we adding clauses to our official co-parenting contract?” asked Eames. “Because I have a few.”
“It’s just that you’re clearly the artist in the family,” sighed Arthur.
“Darling, it’s finger-painting,” Eames told him, amused. “Your paintings are fine.”
“Pathetic. Lucky’s are way better.”
“Yeah, but Lucky’s a prodigy.”
“True.”
“Speaking of the official co-parenting contract, can I invoke the sex clause?”
“You know we don’t have an official co-parenting contract, right?”
“But we can have sex anyway.”
“I’ll allow it,” said Arthur.
