After work today, I slogged through my commute of five steps to my bed and started doing some writing.(Okay, I was really watching YouTube videos.) Esquire came in and started making the bed. "Help me with this," he said. "I'm in the bed," I replied. "And I want to make the bed." "Okay," I said, very reasonably. "How about you make your side, and when I'm done, I'll make mine?" "Nope. Get out and help." "I am IN THE BED," I argued, still very reasonably. "I want to continue being IN THE BED." He did not like the rational case I made. I ended up over the bed instead of in it. He just used his hand, but in the end, I got up and made the bed. Joke's on him, though, because I am back in the bed and now it's quite rumpled.