Wook: "They're under the...mumble mumble."
So I look underneath the junk drawer, in what I shall coin the junk cabinet. There's everything down there. Our million reusable grocery bags. The tool bag. A hack saw (you never know when you'll be forced to perform a Civil War-era amputation).
"Ooooooooooo, what's that?????"
There are some boxes. Pretty boxes. Wrapped boxes. Are those birthday boxes????
Me: "Is that my birthday present????"
Wook: "Woman!!!!!!"
Spoiler alert. I found my wrapped presents. In the junk cabinet. Because wook wouldn't think that I'd look there before tomorrow. Instead I was trying to be the good roommate and do the dishes after he slaved over dinner. He said I should have been irresponsible just one more night so the cat could stay in the bag. Well, guess what. The cat's out. And it's exciting. I jumped up and down like a 6-year-old who finally got her pony. Well, I'm assuming that's what I would have done had my parents actually gotten me a pony. In fact, I wanted a Clydesdale. Still do. Because I'm tall. But I knew that was never in the cards. And obviously never was the pony.
But back on topic.
I have presents. Already wrapped up before my fabulous birthday. Wook's a sly one. He pulls the stunt about, "Oh no, what do I get you for your birthday? It's tomorrow." Lo and behold, the boy went out while I was traversing the country and picked up some goodies.
What are they? I don't know yet. But I'll keep you posted. You know that.
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