It doesn't matter how quiet you are.
It doesn't matter if you hold down the light button in the refrigerator so he doesn't notice it has been opened.
It doesn't matter if you open the package with a knife (to minimize on noise).
And it doesn't matter if you tippy toe across the linoleum so you're unheard.
No matter what, you are stopped in your tracks as soon as you tippy toe around the kitchen corner with string cheese in one hand and a peeled portion of it dangling above your open mouth in the other hand. While PJ Harvey sits there with his tail wagging from side to side, hound dog eyes staring at you and a quizzical look on his face asking why you have yet to offer him a piece.
This is the moment in which you wonder where he gets this from.
Oh yes...
Your thought process goes right back to each instance in the past 2 1/2 years where his Grandma Joy has fed him consistently off her plate or his Papa Terry has let him lick the ice cream carton after he was finished with his share.
However, for me, each day is a day where I try not to be caught "String Cheese-handed".
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