“I wish he’d come inside and sleep in his own bed.”
“He does this every night, and I’m so tired of trying to make him stay.”
“With us?”
“With us, in the house—whatever.” He turned to his wife. “Face it, our son is acting like a child. We tell him to grow up a little, and he runs outside like a baby. If he wants to sleep out there in the dark, that’s fine with me,” he said as he closed the blinds. “He’ll come in if it rains.”
“He didn’t last night,” she said, “and it was pouring.”
“Oh, yeah,” he laughed. “And I bet you ten bucks that he’d come charging into the house or at least hide in the garage to keep dry.”
“We shouldn’t be betting on things like that.”
“Hey, you took the money.”
She placed her hand over her husband’s. “I’m so worried about him.”
“Don’t be.” He pulled away. “He’s where he belongs.”