mood: 
cranky
crankymusic: Chris Isaak - Wicked Game
Thank God I'm not a parent. You can exile a Great Dane to the back yard for a couple of hours in the rain and not feel too terribly bad about it, no matter how much she thinks she's been send to the Gulag Archipelago.
Argh. I think I'm going to eat my salad and read some more of Peter's book, because it's good and it makes me less pissy.
I make a point of making my wife's coffee every morning before I leave for my day job -- I figure a couple of minutes work there is far preferable than coming home to the cops taking her away...
I am in awe of anybody who manages, especially in this day and age.
Mine have their own irritating habits, but how can I stay mad at them when they roll over and wave their paws at me. They both know I'm an incredible sucker for that and use that trick as well as the *whump* head-on-knee-roll-eyes one.
BTW, love the Sandbaggers icon. Just finished watching the first season and am ever so hooked. You are evil to my bank account.
*rolls over and waves paws*
My Husky does that! Usually after he's raided the trash and knows Mommy will kill him when she sees the kitchen...
"Mom's working, sweetie" isn't working today.
Sometimes, I just go downstairs and read Edward Gorey's The Gashlycrumb Tinies, ("A is for Amy who fell down the stairs. B is for Basil assaulted by Bears") until the urge passes. Nothing like dark humor for those of us with Addams Family values!
The baby has been wonderfully delightful.
Grr! It almost makes me mind less when they've "just" eaten the fence palings between us and the horrid neighbours. Or killed a small furry thing. Or raided the rubbish bins.
But we can't whack our fur-babies with hammers.
I tend to whack a character in my novel instead. Or blow something up. Novels are useful that way.