My sister’s Beagle, Bo, who is staying with us for the next few days, he has walked underneath the kitchen table and is patiently standing by Leta’s dangling legs, hoping she drops a goldfish cracker.
Leta: “Mama, Bo is looking at me.”
Me: “He’s just looking for a treat. Don’t worry about Bo.”
Leta: “But he’s looking at me.”
Me: “Bo is allowed to look at you.”
Leta: “I DON’T WANT BO TO LOOK AT ME!”
Me: “Oh my god, you cannot be serious.”
Leta: “HE’S STILL LOOKING AT ME!”
Me: “Leta, you need–”
Leta: “BO IS LOOOOOOKING AT MEEEEEEEE!”
And right then, I swear I’m not even making this up, my whole brain, it popped right out of my skull, landed on the kitchen floor, and bounced like a tennis ball.
