So what did my mom do? She put one of those bone-shaped mats there.
You might think that sounds like a good idea. I mean, yes, they're comfy! I really like them. She even washed it for me and it smells all Downey-fresh and all. I'm laying on one right now, as a matter of fact, as I dictate this -- look:
|Me. Right now. Doing the blog post.|
But remember - I AM A SIBERIAN HUSKY! This was my reaction to the one in my spot:
I can't help it. It's in the Sibe manual, right there between "Don't Be Overly Cooperative" and "Keep Them Guessing". Really. Page 392 in the hard-cover.
I have to show a little interest, though - so she won't know whether to leave it or move it somewhere else. Voilà -
She doesn't know what to make of the situation. That was last night. This morning, I took a different tack.
I was going to caption that photo, but I'll leave it to your imagination. I was staring intensely at my mom. Zim came over to lend support.
|"Cam, you poor kid. What were you thinking, Mom?!?"|
He's really good, isn't he? He totally gets it.
I didn't really know where to go from there; Zim suggested I turn my back on the whole thing for a while. Sounded like a good idea to me.
Seriously. What was she thinking?