Three Years Off

It turns out I never did become a Vancougar.

Although Sahti (with whom I spent the intervening unblogged months and will spend many more to come) is quite a chunk of years younger than me, you have to be at least eight years older than your consort and at least forty years old yourself before you can be considered a cougar. I don't remember where I heard this or read it but after the initial disappointment at the fact the title of this blog was rendered invalid, I felt rather relieved.

Although I still spent a lot of money on anti wrinkle moisturiser just so my face can keep up with how much she makes me laugh without making me look as crinkled as Rumpelstiltskin before too long.