Next time, I'll get it myself.

Me: I'm hoooooooot. Can you turn on the fan? Hey! [poke, poke]

Mr. Pigs: Mmmmmmmm.

Me: HEY! Fan? It's hooooot.

Mr. Pigs: Okay.

[Repeat 3 times]

Mr. Pigs: [climbs out of bed, stands, turns on bedside lamp, returns to bed.]

Me: Um..? HEY. [poke] Fan! Turn on the fan! What's with the light? Turn it off.

Mr. Pigs: Oh. [Turns off light. Returns to sleep.]

Me: DUDE. I need me some cool fan breezes here. Pleeeeeeeease turn on the fan?

Mr. Pigs: What?

Me: FAN FAN FAN!

Mr, Pigs: The red light has been on for two days.

Me: Uh huh....okay. How about that fan? What red light?

Mr. Pigs: The one on the ceiling. At the place.

Me: Hey, how about if we turn on the fan?

Mr. Pigs: [stumbles out of bed to lightswitch, turns on overhead light and fan.]

Me: Augh! Too bright! Too bright! Turn it off!

Mr. Pigs: [Light goes on, off, on, off. He stumbles back to bed.]

Me: Thanks!

Mr. Pigs: For what?

One might ask after all that why I don't just get up and turn on the fan myself. In my mind, it's going to wake me up too much and then I won't be able to get back to sleep (clearly not a problem for him), but by the time I cipher through all of his sleep talk and poorly followed instructions, I'm sure I would've been better off just to do it myself.