My boyfriend loves sleeping.
No. Sincerely. He love LOVES it. I’m kind of sad for him actually because he fell in love with me, the morning bird. I’m up early every day of the week metaphorically chirping away. Last Saturday I got up early to meet my Mom for some garage sale shopping while Mr. Darcy slumbered on. When I got home, he was gone. I asked him about it later.
Me: How long did you stay at my apartment?
Him: I left about 11. I stayed in bed, petted the cats and woke up slowly.
Me: Is that what you do at home? I mean, minus the cats.
Him: Instead of cats, I masturbate.
Him: Something gets petted. That’s what’s important.