Ian to Chelsa at 12:32a.m.: I was thinking about how there are rocks in people's yards -- you know, white ones, blue ones, grey ones. And you could just get white ones, but then it would be someone's JOB to separate out all the white ones.
Chelsa (after a brief, baffled silence): What the hell are you talking about?
Ian (dreamily): You know about rocks. In yardsssss.
Chelsa: Like, decorative rocks?
Ian: Or grey ones. Like you walk on.
Chelsa: Are you asleep?
Ian: Definitely not.
Chelsa (doubtfully): I think you are. I think you're talking in your sleep.
Ian: I don't do that.
Chelsa: You're not making any sense. AT ALL.
Ian: I just think that would be weird.
Chelsa: I think you're weird.