Again? Sigh...

Myrtle and I had a strong difference of opinion today.  You can guess the topic.

She is rather fierce when her ire is raised against me.  Mostly, she gets really sad about my misplaced deposits.  Try as she might, though, she cannot hold out against my onslaught of nuzzling and kissing.  No matter how angry she is, all I really have to do is remind her that I am her biggest fan.  That does the trick.

Tell me, what's so wrong with hanging off the edge of the couch to take care of business?

The best part of today was getting to play with the applesauce dish again.  You know, a fellow breaks one single dish and suddenly he cannot be trusted with anything anymore! But today, despite my personal needs failures, she let me grab the applesauce dish after I had wiped it clean and chew on it for a while.

I am not sure how, but it fell on the ground again.  Sharp words came out of Myrtle's mouth, but the bowl did not break.  We both forgot about it until after we went outside for a potty break and came back to play on the floor for a while.

You might think I like playing with my balls and my babies because they are fun toys.  In truth, I like playing with my balls and my babies because doing so makes Myrtle laugh.  I love her great big guffaws. I wish I heard them more.

Of course, I do not know why she finds my play humorous.  Mostly, she laughs at my very serious attempts to hold all my babies in my mouth or carry more than one ball in my mouth at a time.  Babies need to be tended.  Carrying them about with me ensures that they are safe.  And how could I ever choose between them?  Am I supposed to leave baby Hippo behind because baby bumblebee is wanting to remain with me as I visit the kitchen?  And what about baby Lady Bug?  SIGH.  I'm just trying to be a good dad, really, and she laughs at me.

The balls, well, they are just plain fun.  Myrtle has been ill for nearly our whole time together, so I don't blame her for failing to notice that my mouth had grown too big for the teeny weeny balls she had bought me that first day we met.  Fortunately, my beloved Aunt Leslie noticed and brought two these proper-sized, big boy puppy balls.  [I love my Aunt Leslie!]  Myrtle, spotting some that squeaked, bought me three more. I love all five of them. I like to play with all five of them.  So, what's wrong if I am trying to play with all five of them at the same time?

Well, today, while I was chasing after a ball, I spotted the bowl and started playing with it.  In short order, Myrtle was rolling on the floor in laughter.  Now, why she was laughing is beyond me.  I was simply chasing the bowl that kept--for reasons unknown--skittering across the floor.  Never the less, I am happy she was happy. I am happy that I could make her happy.  A happy Myrtle makes for a happy Amos.  A sad Myrtle makes for a sad Amos.  Not sure why.

This is my life with Myrtle.  Amos Adams signing off.