Oh, it’s going to be that kind of morning.

I just counted my dog. You’ll appreciate this more if you have kids and have read 1-2-3 Magic.

Misty is a 10 year old chow/border collie/who knows what else mix. She’s always been stubborn and hard-headed–becoming a senior citizen has done nothing to improve those traits.

If you happened to be wandering around my ‘hood this morning you would have heard:

“Misty, come here.”
“Mi–sss–ttt—yyy, come here.”
“Misty! That’s 1.”
“Dude, you just counted the dog”
(because of course I said that out loud, too).

No, it didn’t work. Zach laughed at me and said, “M-oom, dogs don’t count. Silly Mommy.”

Coffee. Need more coffee.

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