On a particularly cold day, he stepped outside, shivered, looked up at the sky, and declared, “I’m not made for this,” before wandering back into the house. I quickly learned that Max was apparently only “made for” an exceptionally narrow set of environments, temperatures, activities, and interactions.
Max is a top tier boyfriend because I love an 80-year-old curmudgeon trapped in a 30-year-old’s body.
