[She's quiet a second, mouthing the words "Washington Monument" while she tries to put the reference together with the view, and truth be told she doesn't have a lot of luck with it all around but presumably if Dave's saying it then it does, in fact, look like the Washington Monument.

Frankly, she's a little surprised he didn't say it looks like a dick, because she's come to learn over time that most anything that's shaped generally longer than it is wide can be attributed to a dickish appearance, and if there's one thing you catch onto fast in Life With Teenagers, it's that everything that could conceivably be compared to a dick will someday be compared to a dick. Everything comes up dicks sooner or later.

But anyway.]

It is, I passed it on my way through the snow. Shall we walk, or would you rather fly us both? I'll not mind either way, but —

[She hesitates a beat, knowing this will come as no great surprise, but feeling the urge to say it anyway.]

— I only don't want to let go of you, is all, whatever we choose.