“Barnaby what are you doing?”
”…Reading the paper. What does it look like I’m doing?”
No no, baby, it’s 6 in the morning. It’s time to sleep.“
“But…”
“Did you get out of bed for this?”
“Yeah but-”
“No no this won’t do.” I take the paper out of his hands and toss it down.
“Greg!” he insists.
“Barnaby, it’s sleep time. Tiiime for sleep. The sun is barely up. Come on. Come on now. Down to the pillow. Come on. Nice huh? It’s cuddle time.”
“Greg,” Barnaby protests.
“You know what comes after cuddle time?”
“Sleep time?” He asks.
“Sex time,” I explain, matter-of-factly.
“Oh,” Barnaby says. “I guess it is cuddle time then.”
“Mmhm. God you’re so warm Barnaby, come ‘ere.“

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Text is fictional.