Monday, June 22, 2015

Toys, Poop

Oh, how I long for the days when I was the Princess of Toys.  Every toy that came into our house was mine, all mine.  I could love it, adore it, give it the terrier shake, ignore it, sleep with it.  All of the choices were solely up to me.

Not now.

Not since this guy came to town:

He's a toy hoarder, plain and simple. 

Yesterday, Mommy brought us, yes US, a new toy.  It's a lovely fox.  No stuffing, two squeakers.  Long & skinny.  Pretty much perfect for playtimes, tugging, retrieving, even snuggling.  Instead, Jeff stole it and growled when I tried to play.  He finally let me get a bit, but after he'd slobbered it all up.

Poop.