Ok, so the Woman has a birthday next week. Like, one week from today. She turns about 143 years old, I think, but she can still get around mostly all right.
So the other night I was sitting on her lap, sharing the massive amount of available space with her computer, and she was surfing around, looking at things, and I had the thought that I really should get her something for her birthday. Because, you know, that's what you do for the person who opens the cans of food.
Now, you have to remember, the Woman is basically a dood with boobs, so shiny things like jewelry just don't cut it. I could get her a pair of sneakers and she would like that more than a necklace or bracelet. I don't know her exact shoe size, though, and a cursory glance on Amazon doesn't list "boat-sized" as an option, but I did note she kept looking at the same thing in different colors.
So I said, "Hey, go buy yourself something pretty. You can take the money out of my royalties."
She was so busy looking at the toy she coveted that I don't think she heard me.
"That," I sad, poking my paw at the monitor. "I have enough monies for that, right? Go get it for yourself."
So today she did.
I'm pretty sure that took all the money I had left for the year so I need to get my asterisk in gear and finish my current book so that I have monies for Toys for Tots this Christmas, or at least sell a bunch more books, but I'm pretty sure I can do that.
And she's happy. She liked her old rumbly bike but apparently this one has magic brakes or something, which makes it special.
Hell, I'm just glad I don't have to go outside to go shopping.