(Scene: The Casa, early morning. Brooke is curled up on the floor in pjs, with Wesley in her lap. They’re both transfixed by the tv, which is showing the latest in TLC “wedding week” smut about Prince Harry.)
(No really, even Wesley is transfixed. Something about British accents, perhaps?)
Wesley: Roo!! Roo roo!!?* Mummy, that Prince Harry sure is a BAD BOY.
Brooke: Yes buddy, he is. But he was only a little boy when his Mommy died. He probably has some issues.
Wesley: But that doesn’t mean he should dress up with a Nazi armband or get drunk in clubs, right?
Brooke: At least he doesn’t climb up on his Mommy’s end table whenever her back is turned.
Wesley: I sorry, Mummy.
Brooke: I know, buddy. And I also know that you’re going to forget that you’re sorry and jump right back up on the end table in about… oh… an hour.
Wesley: Does you think that Chelsy Davey is a pretty girl like the tv mens say?
Brooke: No way.
Wesley: Not pretty like Kate lady, right Mummy?
Brooke: That’s right, Puppers. Say, what’s with the “Mummy” nonsense? Usually I’m “Mom” or “Pick up my Poop.”
Wesley: You makes me watch too much British tv lately.
Brooke: My bad.
*For the purposes of understandability, I’ve done the favor of translating Beaglese for you. To the untrained ear, it would sound like “Aroo! Aroo aroo aroooo!”