Nighttime. Henry's room, late-ish.
ALBERT: Alright Bud. I'll see you tomorrow.
HENRY: (Clings to Albert's arm and whimpers) Noooo!
ALBERT: I'm sorry you're sad, Bud. I really am. But you do this every night. I can't stay forever. (A new thought...) It's kind of like The Boy Who Cried Wolf.
ALBERT: The story.
HENRY: I didn't cry wolf.
ALBERT: No, I know. I just mean when you say the same thing a lot, it starts to wear off.
HENRY: I didn't cry wolf. I cried... parent.