poster boy

Mondays are always the least chumley centric days, it seems, and the little kielbasa knows it. Maybe it's because I get up earlier than usual, or at least try to, and our morning spooning is cut short. Or that I actually make an effort to de-hag and smell nice. uh, better. uh, wait. well, you get the idea. But whatever it is, by the time I open our bedroom door on a Monday morning, my little friend knows that today is not his day. And so he wanders off, most times to the office to seek the company of his dad, whom he knows he can count on to be there while I am away.






I can only imagine that Monday comes nowadays as bit of a let down for tiny chumley, still fresh from the hubbub of the weekend, when the three of us typically go for long walkies or just veg in front of the TV, or go for ride-ys or meet new friends like Lulu or Charlie. Or doin crazy stuff, like posing for pictures to help me illustrate some of the finer points of the dapper doxie dud measuring and fitting process.


Fret not, tiny chumley, today is Tuesday and the day is yours again.