On Dewey days I take a 2-hour lunch.
11:30: Jam sticks to me like glue. He knows it's lunch time, and he's determined to make sure I don't forget that he exists.
|Jam trying to squeeze his head between my legs|
|Dewey, not caring|
|Jam and Willow at the kitchen door, being good.|
|I've got a pineapple on the fridge because of Jam.|
|Jam looks away as Dewey and I walk out the back door.|
12:35. Dewey gets settled in at the restaurant. He was especially good today. But I could barely eat because some retired people wanted to hear all about Dewey. So I'm all blah, blah, blah. God, I'm so boring that I can see their eyes flutter.. And then I realize that I'm as old as they are.
|Dewey under the table, being good.|
|Jam is standing up and has a serious face.|
|Jam. Good boy. You get a cookie today.|