Back in the days of children, I cooked dinner. Now that it is just Skipper and I, we eat mostly quick meals. This is a huge disappointment to Bentley. He always knew when I cooked meat, sometimes a piece was dropped for him. Imagine his surprise when I went to the stove to brown some turkey the other day.
Bentley: “Hey Mom, what cha cooking?”
Me: “I’m browning some turkey. Do you need to sit under my feet? I could trip over you.”
Bentley: “Yeah, that’d be a real shame if you were to spill that freshly browned turkey on the floor. *snicker Hey, Pierre! Come here, I need your help.”
Pierre: “What do you need? It is almost Squirrel: thirty and I have to be at my station to patrol. *sniff-sniff Dude, is Gramma cooking? Are we going to try to get her to spill the meat?”