My New Man

I won’t visit home this week as I had previously planned. You see, this weekend I fell in love with a guy and I had to help him move in to my place.

I know what you’re saying. Shel, Shel, Shel, you are a feminist. It’s against your many principles to make quick decisions solely based on the needs of a man. But, dear friends, that’s because you haven’t met my new roommate.

His name is Frank. He’s a younger man. Years younger. We met at the Cat Welfare Association. I was chatting up an older gentleman with peppered hair when Frank caught my attention. It was love at first sight.

Now I’d like to introduce him to you. World, meet Frankie. He has quickly become my world.



Despite the age difference we have a lot in common. He hates baths (I have always preferred showers myself).

My little frankfurter is a voracious reader.



He likes to cuddle.



And he gives foot massages.



I think this is the beginning of a long and lasting relationship.

Title of Cat Lady, here I come.