Serial Killers and Kittens

When I got home from work today, Mike barely had time to plant a kiss on my cheek as he bolted out the door.

"Where are you going?", I asked.

"I can't tell you!", he said.

"Buy me something pretty!", I yelled as the mini-van was backing out of the drive-way.

Two hours later, I laid down for a nap. The moment I closed my eyes, I heard the back door open and close. Mike came in to our bedroom, grinning like the Cheshire cat, and told me not to come out to the dining room for a few minutes. When he came back ten minutes later, he woke me up and told me he had a surprise for me. I asked whether it required me putting on a bra.

Mike led me out to the dining room, all the while making me promise I would keep me eyes closed. He sat me down on the end chair and told me to open my eyes. When I did, I saw these (the photo was taken later in the evening):

Mike bought me some chocolates, a book about the story of Dewey (I cried reading the first chapter...hoo boy, it's going to be a wet-eyed read!), AND a gift certificate for a massage! I have never, ever, ever had a professional massage! I get to pick from one of three massages plus I can add two extra treatments! Me thinks massages are going to become a weekly expense!









I had given Mike his gifts on Friday when I got home from Saskatoon. I couldn't even wait to wrap them. I just pulled them out of the Coles bag, one by one and told him to close his eyes for each one. The longer you're together, the less surprises there are.

Happy Anniversary Babe...nothing says "Love" like serial killers and spaceships!













The trouble I now find myself in is that I am currently reading three books - Dewey (about a smalltown library in Iowa that discovers a kitten shoved through it's book return slot on a freezing January night and how this cat changes the town more or less); The Stranger Beside Me (about a woman who was friends with Ted Bundy before he started his murderous rampage and how she slowly started to realize her friend was a psychopath); and Motley Crue's The Dirt: Confessions of the World's Most Notorious Rock Band (need I explain)? I honestly don't think my reading interests could become any more diverse.