The dogs are at it again.
The last few nights, Diesel has been inviting Dodge out to the backyard for some wild, out-of-control play dates -- and Dodge has been bringing the snacks.
"Who us?"
Last night's romp took place around 2 a.m. when I woke up to the crazy clicking and clacking of puppy paws on my hardwood floors (they run frantically inside and outside just to abuse their doggie doors, I think). I crawled out of bed and thought I would console myself with one or two of the delicious homemade whoopie pies my mother-in-law had sent down in a care package that day.
I'm sure you've already guessed this next part, but I'll confirm your suspicions: That night's snack menu included the whoopie pies, as well as the Tupperware containers they came in and a bag of Hershey's Kisses. (Honestly, I think I was most upset about the Tupperware! We've been having the hardest time convincing the boys that these aren't toys that we leave out on the counter for them. Ugh.)
I guess it wouldn't have really been so bad (honestly, they probably saved me a little grief during my next weigh-in at the doc's), but the night before they consumed two dozen Toffee Butterscotch cookies I was baking to bring up to my baby shower this weekend.
And the night before that, they carried two pairs of dress shoes and a hooded sweatshirt out into the cold.
(I realize this would all be better with photographic before/after evidence, and I'm making a goal now to start documenting more of my day-to-day life with pictures. Promise!)
It seems like these incidents always happen when Mr. Zookeeper is away. For one, I go to bed a bit earlier, so I think they're restless. And for another, I just don't play with them as hard as Mr. Zookeeper does* -- especially when I'm eight months pregnant -- and they're left with all this pent-up destructive energy.
*See below, from Christmas vacation at my father-in-law's house.
At any rate, it was a pretty frustrating day at The Zoo. It does give me some encouragement for what's ahead, though. If I can survive the bitter disappointment of finding out two dozen scrumptious whoopie pies have been devoured by totally undeserving canines, than I'm pretty sure I can deal with a toddler who breaks mommy's iPhone. After all, I've never had a 2 a.m. iPhone craving...
"Who us?"
Last night's romp took place around 2 a.m. when I woke up to the crazy clicking and clacking of puppy paws on my hardwood floors (they run frantically inside and outside just to abuse their doggie doors, I think). I crawled out of bed and thought I would console myself with one or two of the delicious homemade whoopie pies my mother-in-law had sent down in a care package that day.
I'm sure you've already guessed this next part, but I'll confirm your suspicions: That night's snack menu included the whoopie pies, as well as the Tupperware containers they came in and a bag of Hershey's Kisses. (Honestly, I think I was most upset about the Tupperware! We've been having the hardest time convincing the boys that these aren't toys that we leave out on the counter for them. Ugh.)
I guess it wouldn't have really been so bad (honestly, they probably saved me a little grief during my next weigh-in at the doc's), but the night before they consumed two dozen Toffee Butterscotch cookies I was baking to bring up to my baby shower this weekend.
And the night before that, they carried two pairs of dress shoes and a hooded sweatshirt out into the cold.
(I realize this would all be better with photographic before/after evidence, and I'm making a goal now to start documenting more of my day-to-day life with pictures. Promise!)
It seems like these incidents always happen when Mr. Zookeeper is away. For one, I go to bed a bit earlier, so I think they're restless. And for another, I just don't play with them as hard as Mr. Zookeeper does* -- especially when I'm eight months pregnant -- and they're left with all this pent-up destructive energy.
*See below, from Christmas vacation at my father-in-law's house.
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