Oh, well. Matt and I decided to hell with the diets (amazing how that matches the year-ago link) and had dessert - hot apple pie with extra brandy-butter sauce - Mmmmmm... And we went to Barnes and Noble after dinner and I bought a couple of books to get me through the month of not being allowed to buy things before our anniversary.
Speaking of which, does anyone have any ideas of what to get a guy for a romantic gift? I keep giving Matt goofy, silly presents, and while some of them have been obvious hits, I feel sortof dumb because I can't come up with an idea for an anniversary present that's actually romantic.
I've got three ideas for things to get him this year, and they range from childish and silly to completely bizarre and silly. Maybe I should push for him to pierce an ear so I can spend a couple of years buying him jewelry. Would it be really lame if I got him porch furniture or a new battery for his watch?
Of course, he's been complaining for weeks now that he has no idea what to get me, either. I'm sure he'd appreciate any suggestions you have.
Three-thirty this morning, the cat jumped up on the bed and started batting at my alarm clock. This is a noise that drives me crazy, so it woke me up right away. Groggily hoping that if I gave the cat enough room to lie down, he would, I scooted over, then reached out and forcibly turned the cat away from the clock.
He looked at the newly-cleared space, shrugged, and lay down. I closed my eyes gratefully, thinking it would be at least another half-hour before I'd have to get up to put him in the garage.
creakclickcreakpop
I opened one bleary eye. The cat was still lying down, and batting at the cord. I sighed and sat up. Usually, the cat would jump up and precede me down the stairs, trying his best to trip me on the stairs. This morning, he lay there and looked at me.
I put on my sweatpants, stood up, and looked at him. He looked at me, and then rolled over into my space just a little bit further.
"You faker!" I told him. Matt woke up. "Huh?" Oops. "Nothing," I said. "Go back to sleep." Matt didn't need to be told twice.
I picked up the cat, and he started purring. Sigh. Slowly, mindful of my bad feet, I plodded down the stairs and deposited the cat in the garage. He was quite happy to stay there, as long as I put the food dish in with him. Dumb cat.
I plodded back up the stairs to bed, and while I'd been gone, Matt had taken the Oatmeal Bear (a small teddy bear I'd given him for Valentine's Day) and placed him carefully on my pillow. Irritation melted, and I crawled under the warm and cozy covers and snuggled up to my husband and went back to sleep.
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