Thoughts, ideas, photos, and stories.


Snack Time

When I told Emma to sit and have her picture taken, she didn’t argue. She was very obedient. That’s because I had just finished giving her the Dickens for going too far this time. For months, she has packed my shoes around in the house. Every shoe┬áI tried to put on my feet, first involved a hunt through the house for the matching mate. It got so I taught her how to bring it to me by saying, “Go get the other one,” and she would proudly bring it from wherever she had last dropped it. There was never a mark on the shoes … until today.


“Did I do good, Mom? Huh? Huh? Did I?”

I could have cried when I saw what she had done to my $125 Birkenstock sandal.


She still doesn’t get it. She’s still smiling and you can tell from the blur in the photo that her tail is still wagging.


“But you still love me, right? Come on, admit it. You know you do.”