Sometimes the Cat Daddy makes assumptions about certain aspects of me that have no basis in any reality whatsoever.
CD: "Hey are you borrowing these Kipper DVD's from the neighbors?"
Me: "Yep. And look, I also borrowed Fraggle Rock."
We didn't have cable growing up, so I thought it would be fun to see what I missed when it originally ran.
CD: "But you hate Fraggle Rock."
Me: "I've never even seen Fraggle Rock."
Somewhere, in the Cat Daddy's imagination, I seek to actively despise anything toward which he feels any sort of affinity, preference, or iota of positive thought. Though to be fair, somewhere in my imagination the same is true of him.
But seriously, if we're watching the DVD and he says something like "See, and you thought Fraggle Rock sucked," I might have to scream...