February Nights

You're all so patient, dear ones.  What have we been doing lately?  (You're dying to know.)

We had heart-shaped pancakes on Valentine's Day.

Someone came home from the hospital after surgery.

I wonder if you can guess whose lap he sat on.

Or how glad he was to be home.

(The Husband has taken to calling him "The Dog of Destiny" which has a better ring to it than a simple, ironic "Lucky".)

We are religiously picking up our socks.

Tonight we decided to build a spaceship.

The fact that it once was a foam couch is irrelevant.

"Mama, take a picture of me saying, 'silly face'!"

So I did.

"Can I see?"

Everyone in the ship together.

The Husband says he's my dog, but I know better.  He keeps a weather eye on those three beloved puppies in the spaceship, and picks me only as a second choice, or if I'm holding the treats.  He's a good walking buddy, though.  (That's why he's snoring into the arm of the couch.)

Cheers,

Breanna