I hold the paper to my chest and squeal. It still makes no sense to me that this man isn’t taken. What woman in her right mind wouldn’t see the remarkable man that he is? He’s ready to buy another behemoth cage on the off chance I want to spend the night at his place. I bet he’ll also get a dog bed, dog bowls, and the whole nine yards if I don’t stop him.
Grabbing my phone, I fire off a text, expecting he won’t reply until later. He, of course, responds immediately.
Me
Do NOT buy another massive cage. The pigs will be fine.
QB
If a cage were to miraculously appear, would it be like we share custody of them? A single man to a dad of eight. What a story.
Me
Five guinea pigs, Jamie. Five.
QB
Plus Maverick, Goose, and Flash.
Me
You counted my dog in your new fatherhood experience?
QB
Of course. I was ready to go murder a bobcat, so I think that qualifies as a father figure.
Me
I don’t have any weapons in my apartment, so I’m honestly intrigued with how you intended to murder it.
QB
It’s at this moment I realize I don’t know how big bobcats are. In my head they’re the size of my cats, but more attitude and clearly feral.
Oh shit.
I Googled them. Nope, disregard. I love Flash, but I’m not equipped to take on a bobcat unless you have a crossbow, a set of carving knives, or a variety of grenades lying around.
Me
You know what? I JUST gave out my last grenade as a Halloween treat to a kid down the block last year. Bummer.
QB
Weirdly disappointed, Aud. But, courtesy of Amazon, I can get a variety of throwing knives, axes, or even steel spikes delivered by lunchtime tomorrow.
Me
What can’t you buy on Amazon?
QB
Apparently nothing if you search for “things to kill a bobcat with.”
Me
Your search history is so screwed now.
