My mom came over this weekend to spend the night. The next morning, we were sitting around having breakfast and she started telling some stories from my childhood that happened without me (and probably my sister) knowing. Chris and I were dying laughing. Especially the stories about our family dog, Buddy.
Once, a little girl from our neighborhood knocked on our door one afternoon. When my mom came to the door, the little neighbor girl said sweetly, “Mrs. Tillman, I just saw Buddy up at the grocery store.”
“No, sweetie,” my mom said, politely. “Buddy is playing out in the backyard.”
“Okay!” said the neighbor girl, and she went skipping back across the street.
But my mom got a little nervous, so she ran out to the backyard to check. Sure enough, no Buddy.
“Crap!” thought my mom. Running to the front door, she flung it open and yelled across the street to the little girl who was now playing in her front yard. “Heather, honey! Where did you see Buddy?”
“AISLE THREE!” she called back.
My mom said she jumped in the car and ran up there and, sure enough, the manager and employees were chasing our dog around the inside of the grocery store.
Good story, mom.
Please enjoy these pictures of our current dogs, which, apart from being pictures of dogs, have absolutely nothing to do with this story. #halfassedblogging