FADE IN on a MOTHER and a LITTLE GIRL. They sit in a rocking chair reading a book. It’s early morning. Both wear sleep garb. The mother is red-eyed and unkempt; the daughter, perky.

MOTHER (reads)

“But you held my hand tight when we walked in the store.

I’ll love you forever, my dinosaur.”

She starts to turn the page. The little girl stops her and points to the picture.

GIRL

What is that man doing?

MOTHER

Grocery shopping. With his kid. Who’s a dinosaur.

GIRL

Why?

MOTHER

Why is the kid a dinosaur? I don’t know.

I don’t really get  the conceit in these  —

GIRL

No, why is the man grocery shopping?

MOTHER

Oh. I don’t know. He needs food for the house, I guess.

GIRL

But Daddy doesn’t grocery shop.

MOTHER

Yes he does.

GIRL

He does not.

MOTHER

He does, honey. I just do it more.

GIRL

Why?

MOTHER

Well, because Daddy’s at work a lot. I’m home. So I help out by doing the shopping.

But lots of men grocery shop. All the time. Tons.

GIRL

But not Daddy.

MOTHER

Not usually.

GIRL

Oh.

MOTHER

Also? Mommy’s really good at grocery shopping. Better than Daddy. Shall we turn the page?

There’s a pause.

GIRL

But you’re not really good at cooking.

The mother’s eyes widen. She laughs.

MOTHER

Wow. You don’t mince words.

GIRL

Can you turn the page?

MOTHER

You’re not wrong. Daddy’s the better cook. I do try, though.

GIRL

Turn the page, please.

MOTHER

Do you know that I try?

GIRL

Mama!

MOTHER

Sorry! Jeez.

She turns the page, and continues:

MOTHER

“Dinner disaster! You made such a mess! Would you stay up past bedtime? The answer was YES!”

We FADE TO BLACK.