You guys better make it a plan then — I refuse to have you guys run through the house not knowing you spilled paint until the lights go out. Your father would think it's a damn blacklight crime scene.

[ She says more with a huff of amusement. ]

Meaning, sleep over, if you can stomach the exposed wood for a few days after we move.

[ But, as Elizabeth tucks away a few old magazines in the trash from her hoarding ways... ]

Sounds good.