Last evening I watched a dog owner share an ice cream with her giant Saint Bernard. Ben and I were sitting in a Dairy Queen, sharing a peanut buster parfait.
Last night in my dreams Jeffrey Dean Morgan saved me from the Resident Evil dogs by shooting them as they leapt toward us, taking the kill shot that others were trained for but he took because I was in danger.
No more peanut buster parfaits for Bridget (but more for Benjamin because sugar after six p.m. gives him all KINDS of energy).
