"Yes," he said, "I've been thinking we need to wash them anyway. They're getting a little bit gamy."
"Maybe your side is gamy -- my side is still flowery fresh."
"Well I'm a big sweaty boy."
"Exactly, and I'm small and delicate."
"Your side smells like unicorns and rainbows."
I nodded, satisfied. Then paused. "Actually I don't know what a unicorn smells like."
"It smells like your bed."
