Shiloh likes bags.
I just went into my room at my parents’ house and my dog was digging in my duffel bag, and when she saw me, she looked totally busted and oh-so-sad.
I commented that she seems to really have a thing for bags and I don’t know why.
My sister then reminded me that one time Shiloh found a few-days-old Olive Garden breadstick in my purse and totally hit the jackpot. This alone is good enough reason, in Shiloh’s mind, to complete a full bag check every time one is near. I can’t believe I forgot about that.
I don’t care if you judge me for going to Olive Garden - their breadsticks are good and I would probably swim in a vat of their salad - but please do judge me for putting a breadstick “for the road” in my purse and then forgetting about it for heaven only knows how long until my dog went to town on it and ended up with garlic breath.
Riding in the back seat on the way to North Carolina. Shiloh is sitting on my parents’ dog’s back. She seems to be the only one enjoying it.
Shiloh loves Xavier and Xavier seems to really love her.
(I was holding that red thing and put it down on top of him in the second picture so I could get in closer. Yeah, we’re all glad I’m not a parent yet.)
Came upstairs early because I want an early start tomorrow. Shiloh thinks that’s a dumb idea and while I brushed my teeth brought up 6 stuffed animals and will not stop squeaking this damn quail.
I always know it’s time for Shiloh to get a haircut when her hair starts looking like Justin Timberlake’s circa 2000.









