“You’re joking.” she said, looking into my eyes trying to determine my intent.
“No. Maybe.” I say, waffling. It was a crazy suggestion. “Aren’t you comfortable, though?” I say, snuggling deeper into the blankets, bunching them up against my bare chest. “It’s so warm and comfy in here, and so cold out there, and the bathroom is SO far away.” I motion to the bathroom door, which I could almost touch from the bed.
She laughed uncomfortably. “I don’t… no, this is…”
“Come on!” I gently insist. “It’s laundry day. If we’re going to wash these sheets anyway, might as well make it worth it, right?”
She giggled. “I guess so… it’s just, I don’t know, it’s… we shouldn’t right?”
“Of course not!” I reply. “You’re not supposed to wet the bed, it isn’t right.”
“No, it isn’t right.”
“Not supposed to do that.” I say sternly.
Neither of us move.
“I’m going to do it.” She said, as a smile cracked her face.