"I'm just trying to be more responsible," she says, glancing sideways over to me -- because it's not gonna really be worth the stand if she can't impress someone, you see.
"I'm trying to get ready for second grade, Santiago," she puffs out, "And you should be, too."
But in classic Chago, he's long moved on to something else, oblivious to her pretentious brown-nosing display, and now just annoyed that the movie's not yet playing.
But she's not quite through. Oh, no.
"I still play with you like I used to, though, right?" and she throws in a little girly charm for good measure.
"Well..." he begins. "You've gotten a lot bossier lately." Immune, I tell you. Completely immune to the wily ways of women.
"And you're kinda mean," he continues.
"And you just don't listen to me very much anymore," he concludes, and gestures to the TV for added emphasis.
So, she pushes play, sits down, gives him the pouty puppy-eyes and he says, "So, can I have your toast and jelly if you're not gonna eat it?"