Lovey Dog is a beloved friend of Grace. Often times I will watch my daughter doing various things and I will think about how mature she is becoming.
Then I see her with Lovey Dog, and remember she is still just eight.
Lovey Dog (and a few of his pals) go everywhere with us.
Including last night, when we drug everyone out, loaded them into the car, and drove out into the country to watch the meteorite shower. While sitting on the top of our suburban, this sweet child proved her gender by talking the ENTIRE time.
What does this have to do with Lovey dog you ask?
Well, we got an earful telling us all about Lovey Dog.
Including his allergies.
Apparently, this sweet venerable dog has two deadly allergies:
I swear, we do not make bombs at our house.
We might do a little Backyard Ballistics,
But never bombs.
Where she gets this stuff, I will never know.
*Edited to add, upon hearing this post, she has informed me exactly where she gets it from…her brain.