In which I get a birthday present eight months late

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Continuing with the birthday theme…

I have a habit of leaving my lunch boxes at work, forgetting to bring them home and wash them, so by the end of the week I have about three or four scattered around my desk (which can come in useful for constructing a wall and hiding behind it when I’m in an antisocial mood).

This drives S mad, as it a) depletes our stockpile of boxes and leads to having to wrap our sandwiches in old bread wrappers (thus causing them to resemble those chocolate snowball cakes, due to the crumb residue at the bottom of the packet), and b) means that when he comes to wash the boxes up, there is usually a fine collection of mouldering scraps of sandwich and orange peel creating their own little  compost heap in the bottom.  He’s a patient man, but this really pushes his buttons.

So for my birthday in June he bought me a brand new lunch box, which he decided to customise.  On the bottom of the box, there would be a picture of a bedraggled, grumpy looking cat, above the caption “take me home and clean me”.  His reasoning was that I would see it, feel guilty (as I am a soppy bugger when it comes to cats) and straightaway put my lunch box back in my bag.

Such a nice idea.  Unfortunately S ran out of time before my actual birthday to stick the picture on (we were about to leave for the Grand Tour so it was a bit hectic), so I unwrapped the lunch box au naturel and he promised that he would add the cat as soon as possible.

Well, the days passed.  We came back from the Grand Tour.  The summer passed.  The days became shorter.  We went to Barcelona (again).  We got engaged.  The weather got colder.  The decade ended.

Eight months after my birthday – so closer to my next one – I am finally the proud owner of a customised Grumpy Cat lunch box.  The cat’s face stares up at me reproachfully when I’ve finished my sandwiches.  It makes me smile.  And it also makes me take home my lunch box.

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