This morning, I woke up late at my own leisure, and lounged in bed for awhile, snuggled up in Sir's arms, absorbing cuddle units.
I say to Sir, "I feel like I should be getting up to do things for you."
"Nope. My sleepy bitch needs to stay right here. My sick sleepy bitch needs her rest."
"I wonder how long my desire to not move will be overcome by my desire to get up and make us breakfast."
"The less you move, the less hungry you'll be. And it doesn't matter anyway."
"You'll get up only when I let you go."