We're lying in bed and I said something that sounded less like a suggestion and more like telling him what he should do.
Him: "What did you just say?"
Me: "mm?" (I *had* just said "mm", but I think he meant before that)
Him: "Who gets to decide these things?"
Me: "You do, Master".
Things don't go my way but I'm content. I feel somewhat flattened, but in a romantic and sentimental way: I got the warm squishies.
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You must love the warm squishes.
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Mmmmm, warm squishy feelings. :)
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