Spilt Milk

I think I've been sabotaged.  This morning I came downstairs and found a bowl sitting on the counter.  It was filled with the remains of someone's snack - some cereal flakes, and an awful lot of milk.  Spoiled milk.  I tried to pick that thing up to rinse it and put it in the dishwasher.  It wouldn't budge.  I tried again.  Still no luck.

What's up with this thing? I wondered.  Whatever it was sitting in was acting like glue.  I figured I needed a little more torque.  So I wrapped my arms around it and gave it a twist. 

Dumb move.  Because the next thing that happened, was that all of that spoiled milk flipped out of the bowl and landed on my nice clean sweater.

Argh!  Somebody is going to pay for this! 

One Proud Girl

My daughter has been wanting an iPod touch for a very long time.  I told her that if she wanted it, she would have to save her money.  She did.  We had her scrubbing floors and cleaning dog doo in the back yard.  She really earned her cash!

Today, after about two years of labor,  she proudly made this announcement:  "Mama, I have enough money!  Can I buy the iPod?"

"Well, yes you can," I said.  "You've worked very hard!"

We went on Amazon and she picked out a fourth generation iPod touch. 

She was ecstatic. And I was proud of her.  It was a good lesson in working hard and learning the value of money!

Sandcastles and Baseball Diamonds

Spring was in the air today, so I decided to take my kids to the local baseball diamond to hit a few balls.

My daughter was interested in swinging the bat.  My son?  He was interested in other things.  He felt the squishy wet sand of the baseball diamond under his tennis shoes.  It was the call of a sandcastle.

"Dude, what are you doing?" I asked when I saw him building a pyramid structure in the middle of the diamond.

"Building a sandcastle," he replied.

Well, I guess that was pretty obvious.

"Don't you know that people are going to play baseball here?"

"Yeah."

"So why are you building a sandcastle?"

"Because it's fun."

So ladies and gentlemen, if you happen to find yourself at a baseball diamond in Cincinnati that's covered in sandcastles, you'll know my little guy was there, adding a little fun to the place.

Trimming Eyebrows

Before I start this story, I want to first advertise the A to Z blog challenge.  It's a great way to challenge yourself as a blogger and make new friends.  For all the details, go here.  Just a side note - I'm too chicken to do it on this blog this year. (I'm not sure my random chaos will afford itself to alphabetizing.) But I am doing it on my Gone Gardening Blog.  The fun will all start in April.  Sign-ups go through March.

Okay.  Now for the regularly scheduled pragramming:

"Mama, do I need to trim my eyebrows?" my seven-year-old son asked.

"What?"  I wasn't sure I heard him correctly.  "Trim you eyebrows?  Why in the world would you need to do that?"

"I have a long eyebrow right here," he said, tugging on his eyebrow.

I looked at the brow.  It looked just fine to me.

Just then my husband walked into the room.  He had heard my son's comment.  "Son, you don't need to trim your eyebrows until you're an old man.  Then you might be trimming eyebrows, ear hairs, and nose hairs."

My son thought about what my husband said.  "Okay.  I guess I still have two and a half years before I have to trim them."  

The Big Secret

I was busy teaching a violin lesson, when my son came in to the room.  "Mama, I have a secret," he said.

"Dude, I'm trying to teach here.  Can your secret wait?'

"No.  Bend down and I'll tell you."

I bent down while he whispered his secret.  Except it was so quiet, I couldn't hear it.  "Dude, I can't hear you." I said.

He tried again.  Something about toilets.  A big hippopotamus in the toilet?  A pink elephant in the toilet?  I just couldn't tell.  "Okay," I said.  "That's nice.  Now Mommy has to teach."

He left the room, and I forgot about the secret.  Until my daughter came screaming out of the bathroom.

"Mom!  There's something in the toilet!"

Oh yeah.  The big hippopotamus.

I went to investigate.  It wasn't a hippopotamus.  But it probably smelled like one.   A shovel was required for its removal. 

How come nobody ever told me about this part of the mom job?  (Probably because it's a big secret!)  

Yonkerdoodles

"Mama," my daughter said.  "I think our dog needs some yonkerdoodles."

"Yonker what?" I said.

"Yonkerdoodles."

"Do you mind telling me what the heck yonkerdoodles are?"

"They're tickets to jail.  A kid got them on Ant Farm because a walrus sat him."

Okay.  I'm not sure I follow that train of thought, but I'll go with it.

"Why do you think Schultz needs a yonkerdoodle?" I asked, curious to know what kind of trouble our wayward German Shepherd got into.

"He ate my dinner.  And Bubba's dinner."

Uh oh.  "How did that happen?" I asked.  "I thought you were done eating."

"Yeah, but we didn't eat everything, and we forgot to put our plates on the counter.  Schultz licked our plates clean."

So what do you think?  Should I give him a yonkerdoodle, or make him our family's official dish washer? 

Howling for Sasquatch

My seven-year-old son is absolutely convinced that Sasquatch (Big Foot) lives in the woods behind our house.

"Mama, did you know there were eight Sasquatch sightings in Kentucky?"

"No.  I hadn't heard."

"I think one of them might've migrated into the woods behind our house."

I looked at him kind of funny.  "Why do you think that?"

"Because there's total distruction in the woods that could've only been caused by a creature of that size."

"I see."

Later in the evening my son threw open the front door and started howling into the night.

"What the heck are you doing?" I said, sure that the neighbors were on the phone calling the police.

"Calling for Sasquatch!"

"Seriously?"

"Yeah.  I know he can hear me!"

"Dude, get in the house, and leave the Sasquatch alone.  You can play with him tomorrow."

Oy gewalt!

Movin' Up in Crabby Town.

Big stuff going on in the hermit crabs' Crabby Town.  It seems that Slow Poke, the crab in the pig shell, wanted to change his digs.  So he found a new home- in a shell that's about four sizes too big.

"Mama!" my son came running into my room this morning.  "Slow Poke is in a new shell!"

I crawled out of bed to investigate.  I picked up the shell.  I didn't see the crab.  "Are you sure he's in there?"

"Yeah.  Look.  The other shell is empty!"

I looked.  The pig shell was empty.  I looked at the bigger shell.  Sure enough there was a little crab tucked way inside.

Interesting.  I guess all creatures have aspirations of moving up into two-story 3000 square foot homes!   

Creepy Crabs

Last night was the first night that my kids had their new hermit crabs in their rooms.  Apparently the clawed creatures are a little noisy at night.

"Mama," my daughter said.  "Those crabs are creepy!"

"Why is that?" I asked.

"They make funny sounds at night.  I think they're trying to dig their way out of the container."

"I see.  So maybe we should move them at night so they don't keep you up?"

My daughter nodded.  "I'll put them in the loft with the frog."

So tonight I'll look forward to listening to a chorus of crabs and a frog as I try to watch TV.  Should be interesting.

More Pets

I don't think my family has enough pets, so today I added to the collection.  Yesterday, we had a cat, a dog, a parakeet, a frog, and seventeen fish.  Today, we have a cat, a dog, a parakeet, a frog, seventeen fish, and four hermit crabs.  

How did that happen, you ask?  Well, let me tell you about our trip to the mall. The kids didn't have school today, so naturally I had to find something for them to do.  My daughter wanted to go to the mall.  (That's what girls do, isn't it?)  So I took them there, thinking it would be a harmless trip.  We'd poke around a few stores, maybe get a pair of jeans, and that's it.

Wrong.  As soon as we got to the center of the mall, my kids spotted a hermit crab stand.  Yes.  This thing was filled with an assortment of crabs, all with cute painted shells.

"Oh, Mom!  Can we get a hermit crab?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

Then I took a look at the little crustaceans.  They were kind of cute.  And they are easy to take care of - so easy that my kids could do it themselves.

Hmmm.  Should I, or shouldn't I?  Would these little varmits teach my kids about taking care of pets? It's a gamble.

"I'm not going to take care of these things.  They will be in your rooms, and you will feed them, and clean them.  If they die, it's your fault."

They readily agreed to those terms.

So now, each kid has two hermit crabs.  Their names are Slow Poke, Crabby, Sam, and Little Lil. Let's see how long they live.

Oh yes...and as we walked out of the mall, carrying our crabs in their habitats, I heard some kids whine to their mother, "Oh, they got hermit crabs!  Why can't we?"

The mother's response:  "Well, that mommy must really love her kids!"

I chuckled.  Yeah.  That, or I'm just plain stupid! 
     

I've Been Tagged

Hey everybody, I've been tagged by D. G. Hudson in the 11 Questions "getting to know you" tag.

So here's the deal:  I'll answer D G Hudson's questions, then offer my own.  I'll follow his lead by selecting eleven followers from my blog.

THE RULES ARE:

I answer 11 questions and make up 11 of my own.  I tag and link to 11 other bloggers.  You who are tagged are asked to do the same on your blog.

Okey dokey.  So here are my answers to D G. Hudson:

1.  How long have you blogged?  I've been doing Mama Diaries for about two years.  My gardening blog is new - just 2 months.  And I've done various string teaching blogs, so I guess the grand total is about five years.

2. Do you have a pet?  Oh, do I!  I have quite a few:  a parakeet, a cat, a dog, a frog, and seventeen fish.  You could say that I live in a zoo!

3.  Do you like film noir? Um, what's that?  Black film?  Dark film? Night film?  I'm confused.  So, I can't answer this question.  If anyone can shed some light on this, please do!

4. Do you pick male or female protagonists most? Both.  I have no preference, and my writing reflects that.

5. Which female actor in LOTR would you want to be if offered a part in the movie? Okay, I must seriously be out of sync with pop culture, because I have no idea what LOTR is.  So I'll just give my favorite female actress:  Merryl Streep.  The lady has talent.

6.  Which male actor in LOTR would you want to be if offered a part in the movie?  Diddo on this one.  My favorite male actor:  Tom Hanks.  Obviously I like the classics.

7.  Where do you write?  Anywhere I can.  Mostly on my bedroom floor, but I've been known to write in my car, or even in the bathroom.

8.  What beverage is beside you when you write?  I don't drink and write.  It's too dangerous!

9.  Do you listen to music while writing?  No, I find it distracting.  Perhaps this is because I'm a professional musician, and I end up focusing more on the music than the writing.  I like silence!

10.  What is your favorite city?  Oh, gosh.  That's a tough one!  I guess I'd have to say Paris.  I've been there many times, and each time I find something new.

11.  Is there a phone in your writing place?  Yes.  I usually ignore it when I'm writing, though.


MY TAGGED BLOGGERS:

1. Peaches Ledwidge
2. Heather Gardner
3. Empty Nest Insider
4. Escape Into Literature
5. Stacy S. Jensen
6. Joline Huber
7. Carol Riggs
8. Gabriela Pereira
9. Melissa Liban
10. DJ's Thoughts
11. Happy Birthday Author


MY 11 QUESTIONS ARE:

1. What is your favorite holiday?
2. If you could visit any place in the world, where would you go?
3. What is your favorite genre?
4. What or who has inspired your writing the most?
5. What's your favorite food?
6. Who's your favorite author?
7. What's your favorite TV show?
8. If you could time travel, where in time would you go?
9. Do you have a pet?
10. What's your favorite type of music?
11. Where do you write?


That's it.  Please feel free to pass it along.  Hope you can participate.

Thanks, DG for the opportunity to highlight a few of my followers' blogs. I hope you'll get a chance to check out some of them!

Imaginary Friend

I thought my seven-year-old son was over imaginary friends.  I guess not.

"Mama, do you know who my imaginary friend is?" he asked.

"No," I said.  "Who is your imaginary friend?"

"Sweet Coon."

"Who?"

"You know, Sweet Coon, the Pokemon."

"Oh," I said, not at all surprised that his imaginary friend would be a Pokemon.  "So what are you going to do with Sweet Coon?"

He thought about that for a second.  "How about we go to Mad Potter?"

"You want to paint ceramics with Sweet Coon at Mad Potter?" 

"Yeah."

Well, that wasn't quite what I expected, but I'm all for creativity, so I piled my kids (and Sweet Coon)into the car and drove to the pottery painting place.  My son painted a mug and a bowl, with Pokemon themes, of course.

"So, are you going to use these?" I asked looking at the finished products.

"No.  They're for Sweet Coon.  He'll eat and drink from them. He needs a cup and bowl, too."

Of course.  

Little Miss Lucky

My daughter and I walked into the grocery store today.  In the lobby, was one of those machines with a bunch of stuffed animals inside.  You put in some money, operated the claw, and snag a toy.  Or something like that.  My daughter saw this thing and immediately wanted to give it a try. 

"Mama, I have money," she said.  "Can I try....please?"

"That's a total waste.  You'll never get a toy."

"I get a toy almost everytime.  Remember, I got one at the skating rink?"

Oh yeah, she did.  And then a little kid promptly yanked it out of the machine and took it from her.

"Okay.  It's your money.  Do what you want with it."

She put fifty cents in the slot.  She operated the hook.  She lowered it over a cute little red mouse with a heart on its foot.  The hook grabbed it. 

"It's going to drop it," I said, not convinced that she'd actually get the thing.

"No it's not."

And do you know what?  She was right.  It dropped into the slot, where she reached in and got it out. Now she is now the proud owner of a red fluffy mouse.

Lucky girl!

   

Fun at the Orthodontist Office

It was time for my son to pay a visit to the orthodontist.  He's not one to sit quietly in a chair and wait his turn.  He always has to find or provide some type of entertainment.

"Mama," he said.  "Hold these cups."  He grabbed a few cups from the sink and put them up to his ears.

I held the cups on his ears.  Then he put one over his nose, and a few on top of his head.

"How do I look?'  he asked.

"Ridiculous."

The next source of entertainment involved karate.  He imagined he was a black belt karate master.  He ran around the office doing karate moves in front of the other patients.

"Dude, get over here," I said.  "You're going to hurt someone!"

The last form of entertainment involved a couple of tropical plants.  They were very pretty bush-like flowering things.  My boy crawled under one and disappeared.

"Bubba, get out of the jungle," I said.

"Yeah, Tarzan," joked a nurse.  "I've had that plant ten years. If you hurt my baby, I'm going to hurt you!"

Uh oh.  And that was the end of the fun.

The Magic Grip

My son does not have the best penmanship.  I think he takes after me.  It's not because he can't make perfectly-shaped letters, it's because he has better things to do than sit there and painstakingly draw them.  I totally understand.  The teachers don't.  They want him to make perfect letters.

The solution?  The Magic Grip.  My son invented it himself.

"Mama, look," he said showing me a rubber thing wrapped around his pencil.

"What's that?" I asked.

"It's magic.  It makes you write perfectly.  Look."  He demonstrated a well-formed lower case "a."

"Well, that's really good," I said.

"Now watch," he said.  "I'm going to take it off and you'll see what my writing looks like."  He removed the rubber contraption and made another "a." It was terrible.  Just like I'm accustomed to seeing.

"Hmmm," I said.  "It really is magic. Maybe you should take that thing to school with you."

He shook his head.  "No, it only works at home."

Valentines and Tatoos

Last night was the night before my kids' Valentines Day party at school.  Do you know what that meant?  It meant writing out fifty six Valentines.  And this year, I got those ridiculous tatoo thingies that go inside.  Do you know how hard it is to slide those little buggers in the itty bitty slots on the cards?  Let's just say I had a migraine headache when I was done with it. 

"Hey, kids," I said.  "Do you want to help me out with this?  I could sure use some assistance!"

They came over.  "Oh, cool," they said.  "Can we have some of these Phineas and Ferb tatoos?"

"We have to get them in these cards first," I said.  "If there are any left over, you can have some."

They started helping. 

"This is boring," my son said.  He promptly took off to play his DS.  I think he did one.  Maybe.

My daughter was better.  She finished hers.

Then I had to put the heart stickers on to seal them.  I did that all by myself.

"Okay, kids," I said when I finished.  "They're in your school bags."

My son reemerged from his DS cave and grabbed a sheet of tatoos..  "Can you put these on me?"

Seriously?  I mean, why couldn't he give me a break!

Grrr.  I love Valentine's Day!

Ancient One

Usually I get heckled by my kids for being so old.  Now my students are doing it.  I made the mistake of commenting on a piece of music from the musical, Oklahoma.

"This song has been around a bazillion years," I said.

My student looked at me funny.  "You've been around a bazillion years?"

"No, not me - the song."

It didn't register.  "That means, you're like immortal," the student said.  Then she flipped through the rest of the book.  "Do you know all of these songs, too?"

I nodded. 

"Wow, you are ancient!"

So I guess I'm ancient and immortal.  That makes me feel so good. Not!

 

Underwater Beach Instrument

A jar filled with a strange liquid was sitting on my kitchen table.

"What's this?' I asked my son.

"An underwater beach instrument," he replied.

"Huh?'

"It works like this."  He picked up the jar and swished the liquid around.  Then he banged on the top like he was playing a bongo.

"Hey, that actually sounds pretty good," I said.  "What's in it?"

"Two flavors of Capri Sun juice pouches." He opened up the jar and took a swig.  "It tastes pretty good, too!" 

Dancing with the Boys

Last night there was a mother-son dance at our elementary school.  All of the young men got spruced up in their suits and ties.  The moms put away their t-shirts and sweatpants, and got out their fancy dresses.  Everyone looked mighty fine.

My little man, a first-grader, escorted me to the ball.  When we got there, hip-hop music was blaring from the auditorium.  I knew this would be good.  As we checked in, my little guy got a cool pair of sunglasses.  I got a carnation wrist bracelet.  Very nice.

"Come on, mom, let's go rock this place."  My little man didn't stay with me for long.  He joined his buddies for a wild romp on the floor.  They were busting some serious hip-hop moves - spinning around, dusting the floor with their fine suits. 

The DJ attempted to slow things down a bit for a mother-son dance.  Let's just say my son only knows one speed -fast.  He was spinning me around, dragging me down.

"Dude, this is a slow dance," I said. 

"I am going slow!" he replied.

Okay.  Maybe he was a little slower than before.

Next was a trip to the chocolate fountain.  My son grabbed some fruit and dipped it into the chocolate.  When he was done, he had chocolate all over his face, and all over his suit.

Finally, we rejoined the fun.  A human train was chugging along the dance floor.  My son hopped on.  Not to be outdone, we moms did our own human chain.  It was a blast.

By the time we were done, the boys were covered in dirt, sweat, and chocolate.  My son summed it up best when we returned home:  "Mama, that was the best time of my life!"  I'd have to agree.  It was pretty fun! 

Daily Food Poisoning

"Mama," my ten-year-old daughter said, "We have a new news show at school!"

"Oh, yeah?" I said.  "Tell me about it."

"It's called, 'Daily Food Poisoning.'"

"What?" I asked, making a funny face.  "What kind of show is that?"

"My friends and I do it at lunch time. We take stuff from our lunch boxes and mix them together.  Today I mixed the strawberries and applesauce you gave me with some fruit/vegetable juice stuff my friend's mom made.  Then I eat it."

"Seriously?"   I couldn't believe it.

"Then what? Do you vomit?"

She giggled.  "No, I report on it."

"Report on what?  How your parents are trying to kill you by packing healthy food in your lunch boxes?"

"Yeah, pretty much." 

Unbelievable.  Who wouldn've thought healthy food could get so twisted!

Marble Art

I like going in to my son's classroom to help out.  It's always fun to see what kind of projects first graders do.  Today's project was an art experiment with marbles, paint, and magnets.

"You don't mind working with paint, do you?" the teacher asked.

I shook my head. "No, I like working with paint," Then I thought about it for a second and added, "As long as there are plenty of hand wipes!"

The teacher grinned.  She gave me plenty of hand wipes.

The kids marched out to where I had everything set up.  I explained how to move the marbles with the magnets through the paint, to create gorgeous masterpieces.

They had a great time making splat marks and squiggly lines on the paper.  After talking about magnets, and colors, I asked the kids what they thought they created.

"A mess," said one kid.

"A blob," said another.

My kid?  "A blazing red sunset with a Pokemon ball."

Wow.  Does he have an imagination, or what?

(And yes, I used almost the entire container of hand wipes - on myself!)

  

Bean Juice

Sounds appetizing doesn't it?  It's what I made in the kitchen today.  My husband had brought home a canister of gourmet beans from Costco.

"Woman, do something with these," he said.

"Um, okay."

I looked at the recipe on the canister.  Bean chili.  It sounded good.  I soaked the beans overnight, and then boiled them for two hours.  They were all ready.

Unfortunately, my husband got sick.  When anybody gets sick in my family, I give them good old fashioned Matzah Ball Soup.  It does the trick every time.  So anyway, I had this chili to make in addition to the Matzah Ball Soup.  I decided to cook them simultaneously, because I was short on time. (What else is new?)

Two big pots boiled away on the stove.  I worked on finishing the chili.  The recipe said to pour a cup of reserved bean juice into the mix.  I did.  Except it wasn't the chili mix.  It was the Matzah Ball Soup mix.  Oops.

Now my Matzah Ball Soup had a strange gray tinge to it.  "Oh well," I thought. "A little bean juice never hurt anyone."

I dished it into the bowls.  And do you know what?  My family liked it!      

Intergalactic Battle

I took my son to the playground because it was such a beautiful day.  As usual, he made friends right away.  There was a little girl playing with her dad.  They each had a Star Wars light saber.

"I know all about Star Wars," my son said.  "The red saber is the bad guy." He pointed at the little girl.  "You're on Darth Vader's team."  Then he looked at the man.  "You have a blue saber, so you're a good guy.  Who are you supposed to be?"

"Yoda," the man replied.

"Do you know what Yoda becomes when he dies?"

"No."

"A Yoda ghost!"

Without further ado, my son joined in the battle, waving his arms furiously, making all kinds of extraneous weapon-like sounds.  He decided he was going to be on Darth Vader's team - must've been the desire to help a damsel in distress.  "Hey, big guy," he yelled at the man.

"Did you just call me 'big guy?'" the man asked.

"Yeah.  You should be dead now.  You were destroyed ten times already!"

"Sorry, buddy.  The Force is with me."

"Then I'm going on another spaceship."

And with that, my brave villian took off and boarded another playset. 

The Expert

People assume that because I am a violin, viola, and piano teacher, my children play those instruments.  My kids do, sort of, but not really. 

Today, one of my student's parents asked my son if he played piano.  Here's how that conversation went:

"Your mommy is a piano teacher.  Do you play piano, too?"

"No," my son said, holding his Nintendo DSI.

"What about the violin?"

"No."

"The viola?"

"No."

"Well, do you play anything?"

"Yeah.  I play the computer."

"Oh," the lady said. "Do you practice that a lot?"

"No.  I'm an expert.  I don't need to practice!"

Poor Groundhog

I know it's two days after the official Groundhog Day, but my seven-year-old son is still distraught over what poor Phil, the celebrity groundhog, has to go through.

"Mama," he said.  "They're torturing him!  He supposed to be hibernating.  Why can't they just leave him alone?"

"Yeah, I know," I said.  "It's just one of those silly traditional things that happens year after year.  I don't know why they do it.  They just do."

"Well, it's terrible.  And whether he sees his shadow or not, doesn't matter.  It doesn't affect the weather."

I nodded.  It seems I have an astute kid.

He continued.  "And then they put him in a plastic container so everyone can look at him."

"What?"  I had never heard of that, but then I really don't follow the whole hoopla surrounding the groundhog. "Well, that's not very nice."

"They should just go back to Candlemas."

I looked  at him quizzically.  "What's Candlemas?" 

"It's when people lit candles in late winter to make spring come sooner."

"Did it work?" I asked.

"No."  Then he got quiet.  "Or maybe we should just do nothing and let spring come whenever it comes."

"I'm all for that one,"  I said.

I'm sure groundhogs everywhere would agree. 

  

Tickling the Ivories

For some reason, my German Shepherd really enjoys lying at my feet while I practice the piano.  He does the same when I practice the violin.  He seems to enjoy classical music.

Today, as I wandered around upstairs cleaning, I heard something pressing the piano keys.  My kids weren't home.  My husband wasn't home.  That could only mean one thing.  The dog was at it again. Before I could even get downstairs to investigate, I heard a loud crash.

"Schultz!"

My piano bench was knocked over, and piano books were spralled out all over the floor.

I shook my head.  "What were you doing, boy?  Trying to find some music to play?"

Fish Flakes and Teddy Grahams

First of all, to the people who are regular followers, yes you have arrived at Mama Diaries.  It just looks a little different, because I gave it a makeover.  What do you think?  I worked until eleven o-clock last night doing it.

Now, you might wonder what the heck fish flakes and teddy grahams have in common.  Well, my dog thinks they are part of his diet.  They're what he ate for breakfast and dinner.  I kid you not.

This morning, when I fed the fish, a few flakes fell onto the ground.  The dog was right there scarfing them up.

"Schultz!" I said.  "You're a dog.  Not a fish.  Go eat your kibbles."

He cocked his head and looked at me funny.  I led him to his bowl of kibbles.  "See.  That's what you're supposed to eat."

He sniffed it and wandered off.  He most definitely was not interested in his kibbles.

Later in the day, my daughter asked me a strange question;  "Mama, will Schultz die if he eats teddy grahams?"

"I don't think so," I said.  "Why do you ask?"

"Because Schultz just ate a whole box of them."

"What?  How did that happen?"

My daughter shrugged.  "They were probably on the counter and he found them."

I went into the kitchen to reprimand the dog.

"Schultz.  What is this?  You're not supposed to eat human food.  And look, you still didn't eat your kibbles!  What do you have to say for yourself?"

Right then and there he let out a huge belch.

Unbelievable!

Mama Don't Go!

My German Shepherd seemed to have some issues this morning.  When I got my coat on, and headed for the door, he marched ahead of me and parked his hundred pound body against the door.

"Schultz, I have to get out of here!"

He looked at me from his prostrate position.  His soulful brown eyes met mine.  "Don't leave," they said.

When it was apparent that he wouldn't move, I turned tail to head for the front door.  He jumped up and got to the door ahead of me.  And guess what he did.  He parked himself in front of that door.

"Now, Schultz, you don't have to be like this.  I'll be back soon.  And Daddy is still here."

He cocked his head and considered what I said.

I went to the back door.  He followed.  I thought he'd try it again, but he didn't.  He let me out.

"Be a good boy, Schultz. I'll be back soon."

He was.  And true to my word, I came back.