I meant to post this the other day but time got away from me; you know how it goes.

I was here in the basement at my work station (Probably not actually working, but looking at blogs!) while the kids were at school. I suddenly started hearing a noise through the floor/ceiling, coming from upstairs where the dog was.

SPLAT! rolllllllll rolllllll rollllllll rollllllll….

And then a minute later,

SPLAT! rolllllllll rolllllll rollllllll rollllllll….

And then another minute later,

SPLAT! rolllllllll rolllllll rollllllll rollllllll….

“What the hell is she into now?” I asked myself, wondering when this dog of 3 years, 11 months (today in fact!) will grow out of her puppy stage.

I went upstairs and found her trying to play with–and lick–the thirteen-year-old’s giant jawbreaker. It started out, when he got it, looking like one of these:

The thirteen-year-old licks that thing (for dessert) for a while and then puts it in a ziploc bag for another time. Gross, right? Whatever. He loves it. This particular one was already down a couple of layers when the dog found the ziploc bag on his desk in his room. (How many times have I told him not to keep any food in his room?) She climbed up onto his bed, put her front two paws on his desk, and reached across to grab the bag. She ripped it open, took the jawbreaker to the living room downstairs, and thanks to the “miracle” of having hardwood floors instead of carpeting, that’s how I found out about it. This is what it looked like when I took it away from her:

When I came back from putting it on the kitchen counter (I wanted to show it to him when he got home), I returned to the living room and found her watching me. Because I can read her mind, here is what she was thinking:

“I didn’t do it.”

“SERIOUSLY. I didn’t. Besides, it’s HIS fault. He left it where he wasn’t supposed to. I was just taking the challenge!”

“I mean, look at me. How cute am I? In fact, I have placed myself on the same arm of the couch that Bijoux used to lay on. You loved her, right? Think of her now. Maybe I won’t get in trouble if you think of her.”

“By the way, did I mention how cute I am? Look at my face!”

“This conversation is getting boring.”

“Oh, WAIT. What? I sense forgiveness is right around the corner!”

“So let me get this straight. You forgive me but I STILL can’t have it???? Oh, alright.”

The thirteen-year-old came home and I gave him the rundown on what happenned. Of course, being a 13-year-old boy, he asked the predictable question.

“Can I still eat it?”

I laughed and, before throwing it away, gave Roxie a few more minutes with her victim.