I used to go through this with my daughter, too.

“Play with me, Uncle Joel!”


I’m trying to cook breakfast, and going back and forth getting stuff ready for the water run, making my bed, forgetting my glasses,…


…and poor Tobie just wants a game of “Kick the Kong.”


And he’s prepared to use guilt and pouting as weapons in his quest to get Uncle Joel to slow down and smell the dog spit.

About Joel

You shouldn't ask these questions of a paranoid recluse, you know.
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6 Responses to I used to go through this with my daughter, too.

  1. matismf says:

    By the way, how is that dog bone doing? Does it still exist?

  2. Ben says:

    Many times I explained to my family, “I’m the Provider, not the Director of Recreation”.

  3. Joel says:

    MM: You mean those big bones you gave me last year? They make a terrible mess when new so the logistics on those is kind of a problem. He has one at Ian’s that he doesn’t play with much anymore. I let him bring an expended one to the Lair and sometimes he gnaws on it in the evening: I think he mostly likes it because it skitters good and makes a lot of noise. I still have two in packages, and I don’t know when/whether we’ll break them out.

  4. Mark Matis says:

    Good enough. No reason to send a replacement now, then.

  5. seakuv says:

    That’s a tiny little dog door for a big fella!

  6. Terrapod says:

    Heck, my dog just flat out blocks my path and barks at me if I don’t toss the ball and there is no bypass.

To the stake with the heretic!