Steve: Charlie won't get out of the bed unless you get him and he wants you to get him dressed. He really has it bad for you.
Me: I know. It's crazy. I don't get it.
Steve: You don't get it? Are you serious? bug-eyed look conveying disbelief in my cluelessness
Me: huf. What? It's not me. What are you saying? getting pissy and defensive
Steve: No. You're great. I'm just saying that you pamper him more than I do.
Me: I do not! It's just a "mommy phase."
Steve: I think that -
Me: Hold that thought.
Steve: Where are you going?
Me: I'll be right back. Charlie wants a koozie for his sippie cup. His little hands get cold.
Steve: Deafening silence.
Me: (a quiet mumble from down the hall) Shit.