How Am I Supposed to Take That?

Last Sunday, Ben and I were lounging on the couch. He had his feet pointed toward me, so I started massaging them. Every time I stopped, he would get after me to keep going. He also kept pointing out areas that needed more attention.
I finally laughed and said, "What? Do you think I'm your personal massage therapist?"
Without missing a beat, he replied, "Well, you're the only one available."