Dewey: And then, I was playing with my imaginary friend and Reese hit me because he said I shouldn't talk to myself.
Mrs. White: Well, Reese is a horrid little boy. I mean, there's nothing wrong with having an imaginary friend. I talk to my Harold all the time.
Dewey: You do?
Mrs. White: Of course. He's here right now.
Dewey: Would he like a cookie?
Mrs. White: Sure. [Dewey offers a cookie to his left] No, no, no. He's over there.