"You're going to have to cut your toe nails," I said.
We were lying in bed, going to sleep for the night.
"WHAT? I just cut them!" he balked.
"Every night you flex your foot and scrape your sharp, dagger-like toenails right up my shin," I told him.
"Oh, PLEASE," he said. "You do that to me too."
"I do not!" I insisted.
"Yes you do! Only you don't just innocently flex your foot, you extend your leg and purposefully reach out with it -- THEN you drag YOUR toenails up MY shin."
"I absolutely do not reach out and scratch you on purpose!"
"Is it so hard for you?" he said facetiously.
"It IS!" I insisted, then added, "but I love you anyway."
"You do?" he asked, smiling.
"Mmmm hmmm," I replied, drifting a bit.
He stuck his finger in his mouth and soaked it in spit.
Then he reached out and purposefully stuck it in my ear.
"Do you love me now?"