INT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT
The living room in WG's home. Messy.
WG sits in the recliner, currently not in the reclined position, holding a cordless phone and talking to BFF, whom we hear, but do not see.
You know, S -- crap, Z, decent. Nothing exciting.
Yeah, same here. Son was crap, I mean, really crap,
and Daughter was surprisingly good.
What do you mean, I was crap?
A panic-stricken look comes across WG's face as
she realizes what has clearly happened.
Oh, crap, I didn't know he was there.
Oh, crap, he's crying. Gotta go.