It's me, your sister

"Oh, well, duh, of course it's you," she says. "Seriously, Jenny, I knew it was you all along. Who else would be creeping around in my room in the dark?"

"I don't know," you say slyly. "Maybe a certain football player you've been going out with for two months?"

"Shut up," she says. "Why is it so dark? What happened to my lamp?" She reaches over and flips the switch on it a couple of times. The lamp rudely refuses to illuminate the room.

"I don't know," you say. "This is so creepy. I hate this darkness."

"I'd rather have warmth," your sister says. "Why don't you get under the blanket with me so we can share body heat? We can pretend it's a sleepover."

"I don't think..." you say slowly.

Do you: