Three meals a day. At least one snack that ends up on the floor. That’s a minimum of twenty-eight times a week. That’s how many times I pick up half of the meal and a plate off of the floor. No plate? Well, that doesn’t help very much because more of the food ends up on the floor.
I am quite impressed how she managed to drop the scrambled eggs in a near perfect-line though, and the chunk of toast thrown in for good measure? That’s fun.
I’m not complaining. Just observing. Although, I wish we had a dog.