Can you believe that? Well, I'm a real good boy! In fact, I'm really helpful. I can get my own snack if Mom's tied up with other stuff. I've told this story before, but it was a long time ago, and Storm said it was worth telling again. I'm cutting and pasting. If you'd like to read the original post, please click here.
It all happened shortly after I got here. Remember, I was probably 4 years old at the time and really a pretty good guy. My dad was at work, and Mom was taking us on morning walks. She took me and Stormy first - woo. We had a nice time and then got home and mom asked, "Will you two be OK while I walk Am and Zim?"Stormy gave her "the look" - you know, like "Why wouldn't I be OK? Don't you trust me?" and I gave Mom my "Yes, Mom" look.
Mom took Am and Zimmie on their walk. And I think it was a long walk, 'cuz I remember getting pretty snack-y while they were gone. So ... well ... I decided to get my own snack. That's simple enough, right?
When Mom and the redheads came back, me and Storm were nice and quiet. Storm was by the stove napping like she likes to do. Mom looked around and saw me in the doorway between the kitchen and living room. As she told Holly's mom, there I was "with what remained of the bunch of bananas that had been on TOP of the fridge!" (I think she means the magic cold box. And yes, they were on TOP of it. Were.) We all know bananas are an approved snack for us, so I was just being helpful! I gave her a friendly greeting, "Hi Mom! How was your walk with the redheads? I got my own snack, OK?" I don't know what the big deal was.
Isn't that helpful? Let me see...
...what else have I surfed? Food-wise. Oh, yeah. Here's another good one. Although I didn't actually eat anything, it was food and I did steal it. Or "borrow" it. The full version is here, but here's the shorter one:
So... Mom was making a few batches [of Springerle], so she could share with the neighbors, and ran short on cake flour. Dad was out somewhere, so Mom pushed everything to the back of the counter, then went to the store. She and Dad got home at the same time, came into the house, and were catching up on the events of their days. It went something like this:"You left everything on the counter!?" Dad commented."Yes," said Mom, looking around. "Dave was a good boy." (I used to do a wee bit of counter-surfing, you know.) "It looks like nothing's been touched.""Where is he?" Dad wondered.Then they looked and saw me laying right there in the living room, near the entry to the kitchen, looking totally innocent, snuggly and sleepy-eyed. I sent them a mind-meld message, "I'm right here, Mom and Dad! Just snoozing with my head on a nice, fluffy, white pillow!""Awwww..." Mom began. "Look at how ..." And that's about when she realized we don't HAVE any nice, fluffy, white pillows.... and that I was camouflaging a bag of powdered sugar I'd taken off the counter. Woo.