Why?? Why can't you listen to me?! Listen, I know I talk. A LOT. Like, ten times more than your average 15 year old girl does. I can't help it. I have a lot to say and an incessant need to say all of it, all the time. But honey, if you don't start paying attention to me when I talk, you're going to miss important conversations about additions to the family.
In the boyfriend's defense, I have been told that I absolutely cannot ever have a fourth pet. Well I can, but not without quickly having to change my relationship status to 'single' after acquiring the fourth addition to that snuggle party up there. So, maybe I don't really listen either....but that's not the point. I was two business days away from becoming a mother of four until he came home for lunch the other day and started crushing dreams. Apparently Olive decided to jump on his head that morning which reminded him how much I wasn't supposed to get her in the first place, which led to him remembering me talking about getting another pet.
|All my fault, guys.|
But David, just so you know, you're in charge of telling the kids we will remain a three pet household, because they actually listen to/can't run away from a conversation with me, and were really excited about 'Fiona'. How do I know? Because I LISTENED TO THEM.
Update: After attempting to sleep/eat/shower/clean my house/lead a normal life today, turns out, the number of pets in this house should never ever exceed three. Also, I might need a nanny.
The boyfriend never reads this, so please don't tell him he was right.
Also, please refer to this story whenever you want to know who wears the pants in our relationship. I wash all the pants if that gives you a clue.
Maybe I'll buy some new pants with the money I get back when I send back my sad, empty guinea pig home.
Boyfriends who think rationally about the human to animal ratio in a home are stupid.