Funny. I try to get through the day by not dying.

[Isaac strides forward easily, pressing his hands over the wooden frame at the foot of the bed and leaning over with a little grin. Peter's still wrecked from crying, and Isaac really isn't much better, but sure. They can pretend they're both in their prime.]

Is that supposed to be a compliment? I've seen a few paintings, you know. They all look kind of weird.