Friday, April 6, 2012

Fast Food

Ollie is serving time in jail, aka his kennel.  He's on my s#*t list right now.

I got the little one off on her flight to Texas this morning.  Then I came home to collect the teen so we could run some last minute errands for her Young Life service trip to Greece that leaves tomorrow morning.  At our last stop in the grocery store, I bought myself a sandwich for lunch.  

Once I got home, I sat down on the couch with my glass of diet soda and chicken sandwich.  Ollie was sitting at my feet waiting for his reward for being a patient and well-behaved boy.  I always tear off the crust and toss him little bits of it when I have a sandwich.  He's getting pretty good at catching little goodies like this in mid-air before it hits the floor.

After a couple bites, my cell phone rang and I rushed over to dig it out of my purse before the call went to voice mail.  I had sent the husband an email message this morning to call me once he woke up in Texas before heading out with his parents to pick up the little one at the airport.  He and I chatted for a bit when I glanced over into the family room and saw red.

Ollie had jumped up onto the sofa and then hopped across to the coffee table that I had pulled up conveniently close since I was leaning over a napkin to keep from scattering crumbs everywhere.  How convenient of me to facilitate his thievery.  About the time I shouted his name, he turned and I realized it was too late.  The sneak had eaten my entire sandwich.  

Because he had wolfed down his ill-gotten meal with such haste, I put him in his kennel to make sure his stomach wouldn't get upset.  At least he didn't have time to gobble up the discarded crust and wash it all down with a drink from my glass.  What a little stinker!

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