Cute dealers of addiction

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These are not Girl Scout cookies. Photo by Polina Tankilevitch on Pexels.com

It’s that time of year folks!

There are dealers of addiction in front of every store in the evenings and weekends and they are dressed in little brown uniforms with a green vest.

The Girl Scouts are pushing their addictive cookies again.

They stand there looking all cute, or sad, or whatever and ask if you would like to buy a box – or three.

When you finally relent and agree to buy one you somehow end up walking away with more because, you know, they’re only $5 a box (never mind the box is smaller, the cookies are smaller, and there are fewer in the box than there used to be).

Dang dealers of my cookie addiction.

Little dog, little dog

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Oh, little dog, little dog…

You are a tricky one you little dog. You are a little thief, little dog.

You steal my spot on the couch. You steal my pillow on the bed.

You sit at my feet and wait to steal (ok, willingly given up because you’re cute) pieces of my food.

You, little dog, steal cuddles in the middle of the day and make me pause in the rush as if to say, “Slow down. It will be OK. Take a moment and love me.”

Yes, little dog, you have stolen my heart, which is actually quite remarkable considering three years ago I DID NOT want you to be in my house, much less my life. But, you have been good for everyone.

Do I like that you steal my pillow at night? NO. Do I like that you drool all over it the moment I get out of bed and you curl up on it? No. Do I like that you often displace my butt from the couch the moment I get up to get a drink? No. I don’t like sitting in places that are not comfortable and unfamiliar.

But, little dog, oh little dog…keep it up.

**There may have been too much love and only a little Piss & Moan in this post. I apologize and will try to get back to the regularly schedule loathing tomorrow.**