I made an apple cake for dessert tonight. For the kids, of course. Not for me since I’m “dieting”. We all had a slice after dinner and it was delicious. So I’m told by the children. Even with their begging for seconds, I forced them into the bath without more dessert, promising that there would be more for tomorrow. As I bathed them, I was thinking how tempting that darn apple cake was going to be sitting in the kitchen all day tomorrow and how I probably shouldn’t have made it.
Fast forward, kids are in bed. Big Daddy is downstairs taking out trash and such while I check on Brother (first night in the crib with no rail…prayers appreciated!) I heard a huge crash downstairs and was positive the we’d been invaded by thugs. Since no gun fire followed, I finished up some things upstairs and forgot all about it.
I came down to load the laundry and Big Daddy was standing in the kitchen. He didn’t look happy.
“Don’t eat the apple cake.”
Let’s just end this without more detail that may incriminate the guilty. Apparently Sawyer and Big Daddy aren’t on speaking terms for a while. Let’s also say that Sawyer is on a bit of a sugar high. Let’s also say that if we don’t want the good dog to get things that he shouldn’t have, we should put them higher than the stove top. Like on top of the refrigerator. Or the roof.
I’m not sure what to make of the fact that my dog is even in on the conspiracy to keep me dieting. Anyone want a puppy?