Anthony clicked his tongue and nodded. "I do," he said. "sorry about. All that." He apologized yet again, the paragon of politeness he is.

"It's okay." James said. "But your porridge has gotten cold."

Oh shit. He'd completely forgotten about that. "Oh." He looked at the bowl. "Well, no use in crying over that, I guess." As much as he would have preferred not to, he didn't like to waste food, and so he reluctantly still ate the cold porridge. The things he does.

"Is it good?" James asked.

"It's good," he smiled. In truth, it was just mediocre. Fine, perhaps, even.

James beamed. "I told you I would be a good son!"

Anthomy couldn't help but smile genuinely at that. "And I had no doubt you would be one," he chuckled, eating his cold and kind of gross porridge. For James' sake.

James smiled again. But then his smile dropped. "I'm bored."

God, he was bored too but there's not much he could do, really. "Well.....is there anything you want to do, then?"

James thought. "We can sit on the roof and throw things at tourists."