This afternoon, I fished dog food out of my son's mouth for the umpteenth time (there's a phrase I didn't use much until I had a toddler). I try to be as emphatic as possible with him. "Yucky, dog food, not for Dan, not for Dan. Dog food is gross ... " And as I realize what I've just said, I turned to see my poor long suffering dog, who's looking at me like, "yet you feed that stuff to me."
I couldn't help but laugh, and then feel sorry for poor Bob, who has been watching Dan eat, play with and throw his food all afternoon. Jim thinks we should start getting organic dog food and feed him from a dog bowl.
I could totally see this in a Family Circle comic strip. Sigh. At least my life no longer resembles a Cathy comic strip.
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