|An unstaged photo of my bedroom|
Even when I looked at him and yelled, "This is why we can NEVER buy you anything, you terrible, rotten dog!" he still didn't move. I literally had to lift his stiff little body up off the stuffing disaster. By this time a groggy Stu pops up from the covers and mutters something incomprehensible. When he sees the reason for my ranting, he paraphrases what I said but throws in an expletive or two.
This was the 4th or 5th dog bed we've bought Marty in his short three years. After a year of sleeping on a pile of towels (the only thing he doesn't chew), we felt bad for him and decided to try a bed again. Apparently his stuffin' lovin' days are not over. These beds looked awesome when we bought them...a mere eight days ago. Yeah, plush stuff lasted little more than a week in my house.
Just when his antics have me considering adoption, McFly plants on a pile of laundry and looks so stinking cute that I can't stand it...Is this what having children is like?