Nothing a baby wipe can’t take care of

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.