This weekend we all headed to the aunt/uncle/cousins’ for a belated Christmas dinner. While there, I hung out with my spectacular niece and nephews, went sledding with the kids, and rolled around the floor with their permanently ecstatic dog, Clover.
Upon returning home, my own dogs sniffed me so furiously they almost vacuumed my pants with their noses. Then they looked at me like this (see pic).
I swear it’s the same look I get from the bagger at Big Y whenever I present him with green reusable bags from Stop & Shop. Or when I accidentally hand the cashier my card from Shaw’s. The bitter taste of betrayal is near impossible to swallow.
It’s a good thing I don’t have the energy for an extramarital affair. I just don’t have it in me.
