Is a kid!
Is a kid!
She wants to hug and kiss you;
Wants to hug and kiss you;
Hug (squeeze), hug (squeeze), hug (squeeze)!
Kiss (smooch) kiss (smooch) kiss (smooch)!"
Next: I'm on the phone with Alex, and Bella speeds off, chattering to Delta. I figure they're playing ball. This actually is pretty funny in itself. Bella holds the tennis ball, and has Delta sit: "Sit, Girl!", then down: "Down Girl!" Then she throws the ball as hard as she can, and Delta usually catches it before it hits the ground. When Delta brings the ball back, Bella says, "Put it down ('day-own')", which Delta does, and Bella says "Thank you." Every time. She also blesses Delta when she sneezes, which never fails to crack us up. ANYWAY (blog zeitgeist word of the moment), while I'm on the phone, I hear a door shut. A minor "uh-oh" alarm goes off in my head, but I finish my conversation, then go to the bathroom door...which is locked. (Bigger internal "uh-oh".)
"Bella! Open this door right now!"
"Umm...jus' a second, Mommy" (Another "uh-oh" in my head, and the sound of clanking glass in the bathroom, then a clunk on the counter.)
She unlocks and opens the door, and Delta runs out, having heard the driveway alarm that signifies to daughter and dog alike that DADDY'S HOME, HALLELUJAH AND PRAISE BE. I immediately detect the delicate aroma of Chanel No. 5 bath powder...lots of it. I can't see a lot of it on her, but she smells Chanel all over. Kinda nice, actually. And I can see where she's moved the poodle powder decanter. So we go outside and meet Daddy, and my Mom, who was giving him a ride to pick up his truck from being serviced, and all commented on Bella's sweet scent. Delta and Reggie had run outside with us, and I called them back in. That's when I discovered this:
What you see here is a pitch-black standard poodle who has been liberally powdered. In Chanel.
And who apparently feels "pretty" for the pampering. So I get the powder off the dog, flush out her eyes just in case, and she's no worse for wear, and she smells lovely.
Lastly: Bella has, during the clean-up operation, retreated to the bedroom where she is doing her best to be cute and charming. I say, "Bella, what in the WORLD am I going to do with you?"
She shouts at me (and I swear I'm not making this up), a la David Letterman:
"HANG ON TO YOUR WIGS AND KEYS!!!" and then dissolves into maniacal laughter.
Please send help.