My mom teases that instead of having a second child, I bought a dog. Thus far, she's right. The thing is, I don't remember Little K being half the trouble of this dog. At least when she was 6 months old, I could keep up with her and even place her in a play pen so I could relax a bit.
Not with Dutch, our Rhodesian Ridgeback. Last night, he mutilated Arthur the Stuffed Bear that's been with me since 1997. Arthur went to my mom's house today to undergo surgery, I mean, sewing treatments.
This evening, after an all-day strategy meeting, I carefully placed my brown high-heels on the counter and made dinner. I ran upstairs to check email before my Mom brought Little K back for the day. When I returned downstairs, I not only found the blue accent pillow from our bedroom but also part of my shoe. (Other parts of the shoe were scattered throughout the den.) The dog looked at me and seemed to say "Look, Dad came home to walk me at lunch. Where's YOUR love?"
The dog is now outside while I sip on chardonnay and await my darling 4-year-old Little K. MaMa needs a new pair of shoes! And this could get expensive.
Until the next nap time...