My son, the bulldog

I used to own a bulldog. We named her Pudge. She was a nice dog... unless of course you happened to be a Jack Russell Terrier, then you needed to watch out or you might lose an ear. Pudge lived with us for many years until we had kids. I was afraid that she would confuse one of our little ones with a Jack Russell, so off went Pudge on a one-way American Airlines ticket to my in-laws farm in Kansas.
Having lived with a bulldog, I feel qualified to say that my eight-month old son exhibits an alarming number of Pudge characteristics:

1. He drools...a lot;
2. He moves pretty slow, until you put a piece of food in front of him;
3. He likes to chew my shoes;
4. His favorite place to hang out is under the kitchen table. Just like Pudge, he knows that the girls drop a lot of food down
there and thus it is a solid place to visit when hungry;
5. He's like a wrecking ball whenever his sisters are playing a game on the floor. He crawls right through it, destroying
everything in his path and stops just long enough to smile at the girls and drool all over the game. And if he gets his paws
on a gamepiece??? It's goin' in his mouth.
6. He likes to go outside for walks; but
7. He overheats easily; thus
8. He likes to sit on the air conditioner vents;
9. He chases the vacuum cleaner;
10. I'm constantly cleaning up his poop;
11. He loves to sleep and cuddle.

Just writing this blog about my son makes me smile. He is my dessert. The girls were the meat and potatoes, but my son is the dessert!