Sooo...It was me and Pants's birthday week not too long ago.
Our birthdays fall in the same week so we get to be the same age for a whole 5 days!
This may seem trivial to some, but not me, huh uh. This is actually rather a big deal because, except for those 5 short days, I'm a year older than my boyfriend, and lets be honest, this bothers me.
"The Man must be older!" - (to have any effect whatsoever that must be read in a booming patriarchal voice, yes?).
He is supposed to go forth and see what that age has in store, and experience all the pitfalls so that when you get there he can warn, commiserate and comfort you because he's been through it already. And also you get the be the young little minx and who doesn't want that, right? But I am just a bit silly about that. I should be used to the fact, seeing as all of my relatives (on my mothers side at least) are in relationships where the woman is older..aunts, uncles, cousins grandparents, e v e r y o n e.
Maybe it's hereditary?...hmmm.
But I digress.
If there is one thing you must know about Pants, its that he loves cats. He will spot one across the street, lying on the pavement and lure it towards him with his magical cat-speak. Many a time have I caught him in deep conversation with his own cats and referring to himself in the third person. Yes he does.
I am not a 'cat person' myself, and for this I blame my father, of course. Shame, it's not really his fault that he's allergic, but what are parents for if not to make them the root cause of all our shortcomings? So, for this reason I never grew up with cats around the house and had very limited interactions with them in general. I don't really understand them, to be honest. They kill things when they are not even hungry despite being domesticated for easily a kajillion years. They don't listen to you, in fact, they have no interest in you whatsoever unless they are hungry or itchy. They eat smelly food and they only cuddle on their own terms, namely on your face. At six in the morning.
Come to think of it, I have had some pretty bad experiences with cats. There was Billy, my housemate's cat who would frantically start humping the blanket as soon as you settled down on the couch to watch Oprah with a hot cup of tea. If he was hungry in the morning he would not hesitate to draw blood from anyone foolish enough to walk into the kitchen with their legs exposed. Then there was dear Basil, who's greatest joy was to sneak into my room and prance all over my freshly painted..paintings. And Asterix, who headbutts you in your face continuously until he gets stroked. And Fat Tummy Tommy, the only cat I have ever loved, will let no man close enough to hug his fat fluffiness.
However, I have come to realize that perhaps not all cats are like this, and maybe one day in the not-to-distant future Birthdaypant's dream will be realized and we will find a seriously fluffy, squashy faced and emotionally dependent little kitten to come share our flat. In the mean time though, I made him this card. Thank you, that is all.
