Jonathan's Valentine's Day/Almost Anniversary present arrived a bit earlier than I'd expected. The package that turned up at reception at work was, apparently, as big as him and he left the health and safety seminar he was in to wobble around the staff canteen, howling with laughter, standing eight feet tall.
Naturally, I had to see this - picked him up from work and we walked up to the South Bank ready for the Tate's BSL night. It was like watching Bambi on the ice; his first few steps involved him clenching onto my shoulder and now, a couple of hours later he's trying to do Riverdance and is leaving muddy pawprints all over the carpet, shouting, "Look! No hands! No han-FUCK! Oh my God! Hands! Hands!"
Bless him. I guess I'll have to think of something else for Valentine's Day now, but oh my, I really wants me a pair. If only I didn't weight 35kg more than my boyfriend.
Ha! He jumped and headbutted the lights and the tripswitch went. He's worse than Fluffy for exploding the flat!
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