“You look like a raincloud in sneakers,” Disco says to Doodles, tilting her head. “What’s the word?”
Doodles sighs. “It’s been a one-chuckle week, Disco. And even that was only because the dentist hit me with the laughing gas.”
“A one-chuckle week? That’s practically a tragedy.” Disco taps her chin, thinking. “Okay—new plan. We’re walking to the park. Along the way, we’ll stop for double-scoop cones. Then, I’m going to ‘accidentally’ trip and smash the whole thing into my face. Would that get us to a two-chuckle minimum?”
Doodles’ eyes light up. “You’d sacrifice a double-scoop for me?”
“In a heartbeat.”
“Okay!” He starts for the door, then stops. “Wait, should I grab my jacket? It was chilly earlier.”
“Don’t worry—the ice cream will warm us up.”
Doodles bursts out laughing. “You got me, Disco! That’s it. I’m now in an official two-chuckle week.”
Nudging him toward the door, Disco grins. “You didn’t really think I’d waste good ice cream on my forehead, did you? Come on, we better run. You know how angry those geese get when we’re late.”