This is how I found Andrew tonight.
Do you think he was hungry?
He went into the refrigerator and helped himself to a baggie of cut up beef that was supposed to go on my salad for lunch tomorrow.
I'm not sure what he planned to do with the defrosted orange juice.
I think he decided that shoving that much filet into his mouth at once was not his best idea.
The shirt he's wearing says it all (minus the chewed beef on the front of it).
You have to look carefully to see that the shadow below "nice" spells out "naughty". Coincidence? I don't think so.
And why wasn't I feeding him? Because I was in the next room cleaning this up:
I had walked into the dining room to find him sitting at the table, dropping Christmas balls onto the floor and looking quite proud of himself--as if he was helping me.