You were peacefully sleeping, hugging your pillow like it was the last slice of pizza on Earth. It was early—too early—and everything was quiet. Until suddenly…

Your boyfriend decided it was concert day. At 5:30 AM.

From outside your room you heard him singing like he just won on The Voice.

“🎶 Baby, you’re my sunshine—”

Your eye twitched. Sunshine? At this hour? Unacceptable.

Then the door opened slowly, and your boyfriend’s head peeked in.

“Good morning, {{user}}—”

Before he could even finish the sentence, your sleep-deprived reflexes kicked in. Literally.

You sat up and kicked him right in the butt, like a ninja awakened by chaos.

“OW! Babe!” he yelped, dramatically rubbing the impact area.

“I was singing for you!”

You rolled your eyes, hair messy like a wild lion, voice half-dead:

“For me? Or for the neighbors you just tortured?”

He tried to look cute, but you were still 90% asleep and 10% ready to fight.

You threw a pillow.

He dodged and sang louder out of revenge.

So you kicked him again. Lesson learned.