“Where’s the sun?”

“It’s wherever you left it. Probably hiding in your bum.”

“Excuse me? Don’t be rude. You mean it doesn’t just hang out in the sky?”

“Yeah, right. The sun’s gone rogue. It decided it was tired of shining on your face and took a vacation. Probably sipping piña coladas on a beach somewhere, laughing at us peasants.”

“But what if it gets lost?”

“Lost? The sun? Please. You’re not that stupid.”

“But I need the sun. How else will I grow? I can’t be a plant without sunlight!”

“Wow, you’re really going to take the ‘photosynthesis’ thing seriously, huh?”

“I think it’s good to imagine being something you can never be.”

“Sounds deep but I don’t understand.”

“It’s okay, me neither, I am just bored of being David.”

“See, not sure what is going to help. Mr sunshine or therapy.”

“At least my icecream won’t melt now.”