I had a bad mommy moment yesterday when Rocky (little sh*t that he is) peed on our bed and I raced into the kitchen to get cleaner.
I left little Sammy in the bedroom, assuming I would be gone all of 45 seconds. But apparently that is all the time she needed to find a Phillips-head screwdriver and start poking the dog with it.
When I returned to the room, there was Sam, screwdriver in hand, screaming "Ba! Ba! Ba!" while poking at Rocky's eye. She looked up at me proudly, big grin on her face, her four teeth shining. "Puppy!" she said.
A proud moment, indeed.
Later, I called R to relay the tale. He responded with: "How did she get ahold of a screwdriver?"
On the other end, I could hear laughter. Apparently that is all his co-workers heard. How indeed?