I love you, Bean.

You’re very handsome.

And sexy.

I don’t tell you that nearly enough.  Seriously.  You’re really handsome, and really sexy, and my favorite thing about you is how your eyes manage to be soft and intelligent at the same time.  It’s a rare thing.  Usually, when people are extremely intelligent, you can see it snapping and crackling behind their eyes, like they’re lit by an internal fire.

Yours do that.

But for some reason, when people are very, very smart, the ferocity of the intelligence in their eyes burns away all the warmth.

Your eyes are not like that.  They’re just… they’re just warm.  And kind.  And intelligent.  All at once.  It’s amazing how kind your eyes are, especially when you consider some of the people you’ve encountered after 10+ years selling cars.

Also, your stubble is sexy.  I’ve always had a thing – a really, really big thing for guys that grow sexy 5 o’clock shadows.  And you do, every single day.  If you take two days off of shaving, you look like every “dangerous bad guy who is sexy” that Hollywood ever casts.  Have you ever noticed that I invent reasons to touch your face, whenever you get that sexy stubble going?  No?  Well, I do.

Anyways, I love you.

And you love me too, right?

Because I really, really, really meant to just go to the store and get apple juice, some baby powder, and some gloves.

For reals.  I did.

Except, except there was this sign, you see?  It was this big, creepy wooden sign, and somebody had spray painted on it, and it had a big arrow trying to lure innocent people down an alley.

And I thought to myself:  OMG.  Every single CSI or Law & Order show I’ve ever seen starts just like this.  Someone drives down the alley with the creepy wooden sign and the arrow luring them down, and then they die.

FREE KITTENS…, the sign said.  FREE KITTENS…. except there was no ellipsis.  Instead, the letters just kind of trailed off, like the font they use in spooky Halloween movies.

And as I looked at that creepy wooden sign with the spooky letters, my instincts surged inside me, and I thought, “Dude.  I’m either going to get raped and die, or I am going to end up with the coolest free kitten ever.”

So I turned down that gravel road, and there was a house at the end of it… and this guy kind of came out, and I thought… well, here goes nothing.

“So,” I said, as I stepped out of my car.  “So… do you have any free kittens?” Because, obviously, I have no survival skills, and I totally would have gotten into the windowless van that said “Free puppy” if I were a kid.  And I’m sorry that the mother of your children is so dumb, but at least she makes good mashed potatoes, right?

Anyways, there’s good news!  Bean, he totally had kittens.  It wasn’t a trap.  And he totally didn’t rape and kill me. And can’t we both agree that, really, doesn’t this story have the best possible ending?

Because, no lying, I really told myself I wasn’t going to take a free kitten unless it was some kind of amazing cat.  I had gone out for apple juice, and baby powder, and gloves.  There was no point in grabbing a kitten just because someone put the word “free” in front of it, no matter how much that makes my greedy little heart thump wildly.

But, Bean?  Bean, he scooted a box to the side with his foot, and right there crawling around beside a bunch of car parts just sitting down on the ground, there was a kitten or two.  And they were just mediocre-looking kittens, and you would have been so proud, because I wasn’t going to take them, even though I did like the look of them.

But then he moved this other box and he pulled out this one kitten, and I was like, “Yup.  Yup, this is why my instincts told me to come down this road.”

And I grabbed the kitten, flipped up the tail, and yup.  Yup, it was totally a boy.  It was a boy, and it was calm, and it was a kitten color I’ve never seen before in my entire life, and everything just kind of felt right.

And I was like, “Okay, thanks for the free kitten!”  and not raping and killing me.  “Have a great day!”… and I got in my car and drove out of their before anything worse could happen.

And… and I love you?  I’m sorry.  I really honestly never intend on bringing home animals every time I turn around.  But… but I have a good feeling about this kitty?  And I’m calling him Bad Decision, but you can totally name him when you come home.

And this is what he looks like now:

And this is possibly the color he’s going to grow up into (he’s more brown than he looks in the photos, so he looks like a chocolate smoke, but he could be a black smoke?)

(Black smoke cat)

(Chocolate smoke cat – although I think the kitten will probably be the color up above.)

Bean, you know that Coyote is lonely since Bubbles died.  And you know that Fat Cat isn’t going to live forever.  And I’m sorry that I once again just kind of added to our family without consulting you first.  Despite how it appears, I’m not  actually trying to turn us into a some kind of crazy animal circus .  It’s just… I just know you really want a cat that sleeps on your side of the bed, and Coyote only ever lays with me, and the house was just calmer and happier when Bubbles was here….

And my first thought when I drove away was, “Man, I really suck at this being an adult thing.”  But then I realized… actually, no.  No, I’m pretty sure this is adulting done right.

And I really am sorry I didn’t consult you first, but it was either untimely  death or kitten, and I chose kitten.

And….and I love you?

And you love me?  Right?