have you ever bitten your grandma's dog?

 This is a tug of war that happened on the patio this morning.

 She really thinks her tiny baby teeth and little self can win over a hundred pound puppy who has giant spitty jaws?

 At some point, she got mad and bit the dog.

Yes.

She bit the dog on her front leg. (Elin just looked at her, didn't seem overly concerned.)

Who bites their grandma's dog?

Then she complained about the dog hair in her mouth.

We all have our problems.

 This is her smile when she heard her parents were finally in the car and on their way to take her home.

We were up early for us, the little dog-biter at 6 am. By 8, they were both bathed, shampooed, dressed and the older one was waiting for her parents and baby sister to arrive.

Heidi called.

Delays.

We went to Target and she chose a few cute things for the baby, and then said she wanted to get her mom something too.  She picked out a bottle of purple nail polish and some bath gel.

And then the waiting continued until she was a mopey, weepy mess and I suggested she take a nap on my bed, and we flipped through all the channels looking for SOMETHING interesting.

Nothing.

Four channels of guys in monk suits praying.  The Beverly Hillbillies.  Weather. Nature Cat.

Please.

Finally her poor, tired parents arrived to take them home.  They picked out three blankets from the pile I sewed last spring.  We all cuddled that little pumpkin a couple times.

Then as they tried to head out?  No car keys.  We re-traced the steps, searched the bags, examined the floors and looked in the trash.

Poor, tired Joe had put them in the cup holder on the 2 year old's car seat while he buckled her up, functioning on auto-pilot and no sleep.

Distracted much?

It's okay.

Onward!

There's a new baby sister in the family, and she's just absolutely lovely.

I love you all so.

Love, Grandma