Guilty dogs

I bought a few more towels the other day, and when I got home, I dropped the bag in the kitchen floor and sprinted to the bathroom. I returned to the kitchen to get my towels out of the floor, and this is what I found. 

That face... Have you ever seen anything cuter? The answer is no. You haven't. He obviously thought he was going to be in trouble for snuggling up inside the bag with my new towels. That's his "I did something bad" look. Even if I was mad at him (which I wasn't because I was going to wash the towels before we used them anyway), I couldn't have stayed mad at that face. 

I sometimes wonder how I'm going to love my children more than my Oscar Bob. 

In other news, Grayce (all 80 lbs of her) jumped on our bed a couple of days ago and broke it. Seriously. My side of the bed, too. Matt "fixed" it, so I'm just waiting for the frame to give out in the middle of the night and cause me to have a heart attack. I wish I would've taken a picture of the whole fiasco, but I didn't.

God bless her. It's in those Weimaraner genes to be a terror. I love her though. I'd love her a lot more if she'd stay off my bed and quit getting into the garbage. She's currently licking the coffee table. Why, you ask? Because that's what she does. Why not?