I'm royally pissed at The Rolling Stones. They have lied to me. Time is not on my side. Where the hell has the month of May gone? How can it already be almost the end of June? SOMEONE EXPLAIN THIS TO ME PLEASE!
To add to my lack of time, Mafioso Jr. has started crawling. Which means I'm constantly chasing him everywhere and training him as I would a deaf dog. My command for "No!" is a finger wagging back and forth. Which I find myself doing a lot. "No!" do not try and lift that toilet lid! "No!" do not stick your head in the dog water bowl and try to drink the water like a dog! If only he took treats as a reward, my life would be much simpler.
The crawling has thrown the Mafiosos for a bit of a loop. For a good portion of the time that Mafioso Jr. has been living here, he's been this immobile little blob. Now he's crawling up to them, at warp speed to boot, and they are not quite sure what to make of his awkward, jerky movement.
Besides this, everything is pretty much the same around these parts. We are a boring crew lately.
Pug butts still manage to infiltrate my camera shots. . .
We still have freakishly large heads . . .
"Wait . . . mine or the baby's?"
Both of you!
And for the record, I'd like to add that Bruno is not wearing a shock collar. I recently had someone mistake the battery pack of his light-up collar as a shock element.
Speaking of Bruno, he's warmed up to Mafioso Jr. So basically, as long as Mafioso Jr. doesn't touch him or look in his general direction, things are swell.
Um, Bruno, don't look now, but the baby's touching you. You guys are actually kind of holding paws.
"HE TOUCHED ME!! AHHHHHHHH!"
So I know everyone said that having a baby would change my life. And yes, to some degree it did. I now have alphabet magnetic letters adorning my fridge instead of the sole beer cap opener. But guess what? I find a way to make it work with my four dogs. And I like it that way.