Group Pouting

Me: (Picking up all the dog toys for the third time this week)
Bear: Mother! What are you doing? You’ve already put my toys up a lot this week!
Me: Scarlett is coming to visit so we need to have most of your toys put up.
Bear: I don’t like it when she comes to visit! She doesn’t do what I say.
Me: I know, and she says the exact same thing about you.
Bear: Sigh, Fine!

Scarlett arrives

Me: (Letting Bear out of his kennel) Try not to be pushy with her, she’s still really little.
Bear: (Grabs three toys) mumble, mumble. (Follows me to the living room, drops the toys in their normal spots.)
Scarlett: (Watches Bear drop toys on the floor, goes and picks them up and moves them to the corner)
Bear: (Picks toys up from corner, brings them to me and drops them right next to me on the couch. Jumps up next to me on the other side and tries to climb in my lap.)
Scarlett: (Standing next to me on the side where Bear dropped his toys) Grandma, I want to sit here. (Points to a now clear spot on the couch)
Me: Scarlett, did you put Bear’s toys on the floor?
Scarlett: They don’t belong on the couch.
Bear: (Drapes his front paws and head across my lap looking very upset.)
Me: I will take that as a yes. Scarlett, he brought them to me because you moved them from where he had them originally.
Scarlett: But they don’t belong there. (Puts lower lip out, folds her arms together, sits in front of me and pouts.)
Me: (Looking at the pouting granddaughter then the pouting dog it occurred to me how bad it would be if I laughed.) Well, when you two figure it out ,the movie will still be on.

Pancakes Anyone?

Me: (Picking up Snow from in front of the door and holding him while I let the dogs out)
Snow: I want to go out too!
Me: Not for a couple of weeks, we are too close to Halloween.
Snow: And?
Me: You are a black cat, some people like to hurt black cats around this time of year.
Snow: That’s silly I don’t bother anyone.
Me: (Puts Snow on back of recliner next to door) How about I pet you every time I let the dogs in or out?
Snow: Really? Does that mean you like me?
Me: I suppose I could agree to those terms.
Snow: (Jumps off recliner) Score!


Snow: (Permanently attached to the back of the recliner)


Me: (Letting the dogs out, petting Snow)
Snow: I’m kinda thinking you love me!
Me: Don’t push it


Me: (Letting theĀ dogs in, petting Snow)
Snow: Wow I’m starting to think I might be your favorite!
Me: Right. (Note to self, cats don’t get sarcasm)
Bear: (Hits seat of recliner, flips Snow off the top) Excuse me? What did you say?
Snow: You heard her, I’m her favorite!
Bear: (Sits on Snow) Mother!
Snow: (Squeaks)
Me: Bear, what have we decided about the cats and squeaking?
Bear: They aren’t supposed to but he said he’s your favorite. A cat can’t be your favorite. Besides he isn’t squeaking anymore.
Me: Bear, he stopped squeaking because he can’t breathe!
Bear: So?
Me: So, I am not explaining to Rachel why Snow got turned into a pancake, stand up!
Bear: (Stands up, snorts) Silly cat!
Snow: (Taking several deep breaths) Tell me again why I shouldn’t go outside?