Running with scissors

This was an amazing book... and I highly suggest reading it, and others by Augusten Burrows, like Holidays on ice...

But that was not where I am going with this one...

Our kitchen and dining room form a big loop, or as cooper sees it, a dog track. Its not exactly open, but this is the basic floor plan:

Clearly I was actually meant to be an architect

Cooper is a crate trained dog, and he has no medium energy level. He is either sleeping or so extremely excited about life that it kind of makes me cranky sometimes. He is like the perky girl that works at my gym. Its 7:30 in the morning, what is there to be so excited about? It really should be illegal to be that excited at certain times of the day

When I come home its like the running of the bulls... only its one really small dog, and one really fat sausage dog. The sausage dog usually prances around for a little while, but in about 20 seconds he runs out of breath and hides under the table. Cooper is just getting going

The other afternoon when I came home I decided to run around the kitchen in circles trying to wear out my little crack addict. It was one of those days where it was so windy that if I took cooper out for a walk one of two things would happen. He would either turn into a kite and become airborne, or his lungs would become filled with sand. It gets so windy that sometimes they almost have to plow our street from the sand that blows up in the road

Anyways, after about my tenth lap around our narrow kitchen I asked mom, who was quietly washing dishes at the time, with the dishwasher open, making our already small kitchen smaller "Isn't this the part where you yell at me for running in the house"
To which she responded
"Um... only if your running with scissors"

Thanks for lookin' out for me mom!