6 hours ago
Jenny comes by every weekday morning to give me breakfast. As my devoted firstborn situates herself by my bed, Stella hops from the floor to the bench, leaps over the footboard onto the bed, and indecorously scurries up to give me morning kisses. Hoyden! Secure in the belief that her kisses have won my heart yet again, she settles herself on my lap and waits, all the while staring at my MOUTH! Yes, dear reader, my mouth. Unable to share a discreet treat from my hand, I sometimes let fall from my lips the tiniest soupçon of an oopsy; if the oopsy lingers too long on my lower lip the hussy shamelessly leans in and plucks it right off. Jenny and I chuckle indulgently, ignoring the solecism.
One morning last week, Stella didn't greet me with her typical boundless, pre-oopsy enthusiasm. Instead, a subdued little girl crept quietly into my room and was deposited on my lap. As Jenny reported on Stella's pre-dawn escapades, I was treated to pitiful looks from behind Bichon lashes (which are grown for just this sort of occasion). It so happens that Stella, like others of her species who are tempted by evil, PEED on her mama's bed! She received rather a scolding while Jenny washed the linens, a scolding that left her chastened even the next day. Betraying not an iota of interest in the most important meal of the day, she sat on my lap, head resting on crossed paws, every ounce a perfect little lady. Jenny and I chuckled indulgently, all at the drama queen's expense.
The following day the hoyden returned, evidently choosing to look forward rather than back. Okay, it's not a choice, she's made that way.
at 5:02 PM