Dadda's not as dumb as he looks since my cries and whines have begun to go ignored lately. Darn, I guess I'll need to work on those communication skills, either that or buy that mountain climbing harness I saw on the internet so I can get the candy from the top shelf of the pantry. I can do it myself!
Speaking of people who need help, Dadda always asks me to help when I come by and he's putting things away. Sure, I know where things go. Boring things go where he tells me to, or in a pile near the place he pointed. Shiny things go in my hidey hole for future play. Now, I know Dadda likes to be independent, (he gets it from me) but even a tasty distraction like a generic fruit and grain cereal bar cut into eighths like I prefer, still can't keep me away from a clean dishwasher. Sure enough I helped Dadda take out silver ware, which he promptly put back in the dishwasher with the other dirty dishes since anything I touched was now covered in mixed berry fruit filling.
Dadda left out an "empty" cereal box and I taught him the true meaning of the word "empty" by happily consuming the cereal dust by pouring as much as I could in my mouth. The rest ended up on the recliner. So, Dadda went out to the garage for the hand-held vacuum. That thing's loud! I hid in the laundry room. While I was in there I found my diaper-bag and in it was my to-go container filled with actual cereal, not just dust. Once Dadda replaced the vacuum, I poured Cheerios on the floor and showed him how I clean up messes. One by one I ate the Cheerios, but I had to compete with the fluff as she could eat them faster than me. Dadda was satisfied with my cleaning methods and decided to leave the vacuum in the garage this time.
Today I am
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