“Can you leave yet?” I ask this stubborn cold.
“No. Not for a few more days at least,” is it’s adamant reply.
I sniffle a grumble back in disappointment.
Sniffle. “I’d wish you good night if there were anything good about you in the first place– but there’s not,” I say with glaring eyes.
“So a sniffly good night to you too,” I huff and turn over on my sheets hopefully for the last time.