You Can't Make This Stuff UpYou just can't make this stuff up. The other day my wife had gotten a bit "fancied up" to go out and have lunch with several other retired teachers when she decided she'd feed the dogs before she left. Next thing I hear is, "Damn", and I look up and see her standing in the hallway pointing to her shirt. "Now I have to change, I've got dog food on my shirt!" Looking disgusted, she turned and headed into the bedroom to look for a new shirt.
I watched her turn away and disappear into the bedroom--followed by our black field lab walking quietly behind her, in his mouth a clean paper napkin carefully held by one corner as if he wanted to say, "Here, Mom, I'll help." I cracked up and my wife couldn't believe it when she turned around and saw him standing there with the napkin.