Cradle To The Grave

| Romantic | February 9, 2017

(Being a non-native speaker of English, I confuse my words quite often, especially when I’m hungry. This was one of the best examples of this phenomena. I am just coming out from the ladies’.)

Boyfriend: “Hey.” *points at the guy who is down the hall by now* “I just ran into another guy I was in the Physics department with. I’ve been running into old acquaintances all over the place today.”

Me: “Cool.” *starts teasing* “It’s because you have a lot of past now.”

Boyfriend: “…probably.”

Me: “Yeah. Twenty one years of past. About to be twenty two.”

Boyfriend: “Twenty one? Since when?”

Me: “Since birth. Twenty one years of being alive.”

Boyfriend: “I’m not twenty one.”

Me: “Yes, you are. You haven’t had your birthday ye— THIRTY ONE! Thirty one was what I meant. It was thirty one in my head!”

Boyfriend: *starts laughing* “That’s what I thought. Getting back ten years of my life. That sounds nice. Give me my ten years back, [My Name]. I want to be twenty one again.”

Me: “No!”

Boyfriend: “Why not?”

Me: “I don’t want to be forty! You can’t have my ten years!”

Boyfriend: “I didn’t mean I’d take them from you personally.”

Me: “Oh. Still no.”

Boyfriend: “Why not? You don’t want a young, hot, twenty-year-old boyfriend?”

Me: “Ew, no.”

Boyfriend: “Why not? Some twenty-year-olds can be pretty mature.”

Me: “I don’t want to feel like a grave robber— CRADLE ROBBER! Grave robber is something completely different!”

Boyfriend: *laughs harder* “That’d be dating a really old guy.”

Me: *laughing* “That’d be dating a cradle robber.”

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