sun

Would you look at the grin on that face? I often find Chuck standing with his nose pressed to the back door, as immovable as a statue, his way of telling me that he’d very much like to go outside and roast himself on the patio. I often oblige because this is his favorite pastime, even though his other favorite pastime is walking into whatever room I’m in, dropping a rotten egg fart, and then immediately leaving.