Mom: Yes Son...
Quill: I noticed it's really hot in here. I prefer it cooler...
Mom: I know sweetie, the A/C has died.
Quill: You mean the cold blowy thing?
Mom: Yes. Why don't you sprawl on the granite hearth in front of the loud, not-that-cold blowy thing till the repairman calls back.
Quill: I think I may need to go belly-up, and expose my tummy floof.
Mom: Go ahead Son, do what you need to. Your Dad and I may need to do the same. If I weren't such a puddle, I'd find the camera and take your photo, cause you look so cute. I think you may actually be sitting still today... Nah, I'm a puddle.