POV you get adopted by Bo Burnham

Sorry, ft. HomeGoods

The next week.

At homegoods, Bo has promised to buy you everything you want to decorate your new room at your new house since he exploded the old one. He parooses the rustic chicken decor and live love laugh memorabilia, saying hmm often.

"Dad?" you ask.

"What do you think of this chicken?" He aks, holding up a metal chicken that is actually a rooster because of the little dingly thing on his head and chin.

You reach out to touch it, and your fingernail scrapes on it and it's that awful rusty feeling tinny metal that gives you shivers and a headache to touch.

"It makes my teeth hurt." You reply/

He hmms again, and takes a bite of the chiken. "I see what you mean."

"Dad?" You repeat.

"Yes child?"

"Can I go look at the bedding?"

"You don 't like the racecar bed I bought you on ebay?" His eyes look like the uwu emoji.

"No, daddy, the race ecar bed is great, honestly, but the sheets it came with definitely have pee on them, since I think they used to be a toddler's." You frown. Seriously, your racecar bed is badass. You can only imagine how jealous your friends at school will be.

"Speaking of which, when am I going to start school?" you ask, as Bo leads you to the bedding aisle understandingly. He has been much more subdued since the Olive garden fiasco, when he literally killed someone. You haven't seen a tophat all week, and he drives slower. Yesterday, he stopped the van in an intersection again to help an old lady cross the street. It was almost cute how he kissed her on the head and sent her on her way, angels singing as he did. You're pretty sure he is actually experiencing self awareness and accountability, which is new for him as far as you know.

"I don't know what which you are speaking of, but I didn't know you wanted to do school. I thought we would mostly go on more adventures. What grade would you want to be in?"

"I don't know..." You answer. You pick up a pair of soft sheets with a dog pattern on them. They are very cute, but they remind you too much of your past dog food diet. You put them down. "Maybe high school since I'm 16. I think that's the grade I'm supposed to be in.

Suddenly wrapped in a billowing fitted sheet, Bo lifts your chin with his finger in a gentle kind of tender way.  "Baaby child. You know I love you and I don't want to make you sad but I don't know if high school is the best idea yet."

a tear wells up in your glittery purple eye orb, and falls cutely down your natural and not blushed but still hot pink cheek. "Because I'm not yet acclimated to the real world outside of my washing machiene hole, and I could suffer because of my lack of understanding of social cues?"

He smiles. "Because you can't read."

Right. Dumb bitch.