last Christmas . . .

Last year for Christmas, Shiny New Boyfriend gave me a beautiful prezzie, with one condition attached.

I had to agree to marry him.

Well, it was a beautiful ring, and I like him a lot, too, so I agreed. We haven't set a date yet, because we wanted to live together first and get used to each others homicide-inducing quirks without the added pressure of planning a wedding.

He moved in about six months ago, and so far we're murder-free. This is surprising, because apparently, I roll myself up in the covers at night like a burrito, leaving him shivering and resentful, and he puts his dirty dishes in the sink to age properly before he puts them in the dishwasher right next to the sink, instead of putting them in the dishwasher in the first place.
In spite of this, we still like each other a real whole lot. We're looking forward to many long years of finding new ways to drive each other crazy.

(The Best Roommate Ever is now renting my parents' basement apartment about 15 minutes away. She's family.)