Football, dinner, dog

Guess who's waiting for his share?

Tell me this doesn’t happen at your house.  Chuck knows he’s supposed to be sitting on his blanket all the way across the room, not at Wadly’s feet . . . but Wadly’s watching Sunday football and not paying attention so that’s where Chuck’s little butt is parked.  His little ears are pointed at me and he knows he’s in trouble . . . I can hear him mumbling “Mom, don’t notice.  Mom, don’t notice.”

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