So it was one of those nights last night--the one where you're too tired for words yet wide awake. I lay in bed for a while, reading a book, and then suddenly I was struck with a craving for something sweet.
Now I'm usually not one for having sweets in the house, but as it happened, I'd been grocery shopping earlier in the day and had decided to treat myself to a package of creme-filled scones. I'd had one when I got home, and another with dinner, and I knew that there were two left in the box. And at 3AM, suddenly the idea of one of those scones seemed like the solution to all the world's problems.
Quietly I got up, trying to avoid waking Murphy, because if he knew I was eating something, he'd want some too and I didn't feel like sharing or dealing with the begging. So I crept down the hall and into my office, where I'd left the box of scones on the table next to my computer, only to find that the scones weren't there! Instead, I found the remains of the empty scone box on the floor. When? How? WHY?! DAMN THAT DOG!!!
As I returned to bed and my book, sconeless, I looked down at him sleeping on his dog bed and I could swear that I heard him snicker.
Yep. I hate him.