KEITH: No, honey, this is the Grammys.
NICOLE: Wait, that doesn’t sound right either.
KEITH: The DGAs?
NICOLE: Are we maybe just… out to dinner, where people happen to be in bleachers?
KEITH: I have no idea. I am so tired.
NICOLE: I am delirious.
KEITH: Thank God we told people about our new baby.
NICOLE: Yes! This way they’ll understand our pain.
KEITH: They’ll totally give you a pass for this outfit because they will assume you are blind with exhaustion.
NICOLE: Is it really that bad?
NICOLE: THAT was uncalled for, I think.
KEITH: No, I mean, we’re at the SAG Awards.
NICOLE: Oh! Yes. Also, way to change the subject so that we’re not talking about this terrible dress.
KEITH: No problem. I’m a professional.
NICOLE: I mean… tell me: Did I hot-glue gun this while I was up for a 3 a.m. feeding?
KEITH: Let’s just tell people yes.
NICOLE: Good plan.
KEITH: Again, I’m a professional.