Baby? You’re a Dog Tomorrow
You may have noticed that my blog headlines lately have all been song lyrics . Well, today’s heading is the botched title to a song Matt attempted to serenade me with at the dinner table last night? Any guesses (the answer will be below).
Our anniversary went very well last night. I got home around 6PM to find Matt updating his blog. He (and Dusty) both expressed extreme excitement to see me. Matt and I exchanged token gifts (our “big” gifts were the trip to Provincetown next week and committment rings we picked out in June…so last night’s gifts were just to have something to open). Matt gave me a fuzzy monkey hand puppet that concerned poor little Dusty and made her jealous. I gave Matt some “Manly Mitz” to protect his precious little fingers from nail biting. They’re so masculine.
Anyway, we both got each other cards with no pre-printed text inside so we could each write 9 years worth of something special. We then left for Ma Soba (Cambridge Street, Beaon Hill) where we started off with a yummy Dim Sum Basket (for us), a bean and mandarin salad (for Matt) and some crab sushi (for me). The entrees were equally delicious (I had lemon chicken katsu…Matt had some sort of spicey chicken with fried spinach thing).
After dinner, we came home, laid on the sofa together (with Dusty) and just talked and cuddled. Very romantical.
Oh, and have you figured out what song title Matt was referring to with “Baby? You’re a Dog Tomorrow?” Well, while we were eating, we began discussing getting Dusty fixed at some point in August. Then Matt sang that lyric to me and I looked at him with my standard “What the f*ck?” expression. He proceeded to say: “you know, the Tarantino song…it’s an old one”. Immediately, since we are so in sync, I was able to determine that he was referencing “Girl, You’ll Be A Woman Soon”. Yep – that’s my baby.
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You two are too cute…
I didn’t say, “Tarintino song” …I said, that “Neil Diamond song from that Tarintino movie!” …but you did understand what I was trying to joke about. Oh well. I love my manly mitz — I feel like one, Ms. Joan Crawford. I should rise and dip my face in boiling water and then into ice!
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