We’re So Not Rotten…

Late last year, I had the husband character build what we like to call The Chindowseat in what was once our oldest daughter’s bedroom. I doubt I have to explain why it is called such:  

In an effort to fight off cabin fever, thanks to a cold and the zomgnoticyroadsinCentralTexasweareallgonnadie conditions, I put curtains up to make it look a little more like a bedroom again. For a brief moment, I was without an audience, furry or otherwise. Just as I began to reach for the blue war paint to shout FREEDOM!!! I felt a small paw on my calf…and before I knew it, I was surrounded. 

My next attempt to escape will probably also be met with utter failure in fluffbutt form. 

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Dear Nylabone:

We have some very greedy little boys in our home. Normally quite docile and willing to share, your products have officially turned them into snarling Gremlinesque tushyholes:

Note how Ninja is more than willing to not only show you his official ‘gfy’ face, but he’s also displaying his claws of death. This is serious, Ma. I realize you bought four new Nylabones, but this one…this one right here…is mine, and I’m ready to throw ‘bows for it. 

Meanwhile, Niko is watching over the “wall” to make certain no one gets any funny ideas about stealing his while acting as though he’s not upset at the growling coming from his right. Somehow, my sitting between them seemed like a good idea…thank goodness for my phone of sanity!

The other two bones from the packages are somewhere on the floor, or as we like to call it, ‘deep in the bowels of puppy day care’.

And to think, this all began with a Prime Now delivery of sinus medication and the thought that maybe they’d enjoy a treat for being disturbed by the doorbell…