“For the last time, ma, take off your glasses.” He proceeds to take them off, gently lifting her head.
“And for the last time, you know I can’t see without them.”
“Your eyes. I want to see your eyes.”
“They’re horrible. I hate my eyes. They’re hollow, sunken shells.”
“There you go. Happy?” she asks, fluttering her eyelashes.
“Perfect.” he says, proceeding to kiss each of her eyes.
“Aww. You’re just biased because you looouve me.”
“Whatever you say.”
“You didn’t have to answer me. That was a rhetorical statement.”
“I don’t know such big words in Inglis.”
“Oh yeah, right. You speak English better than me. Your spelling of course, is atrocious.”
“There you go again. Be still and sleep now.” he says, cuddling next to her. “And don’t hog the sheets. Like always.”