Gus is not feeling well today. Sunday we chuckled over the fact that he was snoring in his sleep, by Monday we had a runny nose and last night was a futile excercise in getting rest for all of us. Poor fellow! He is so congested and phlemmed-up that he cannot stand lying down for very long. That doesn't, however, stop him from being one step ahead of me at all waking hours. So far today he's poured out a generous dusting of flour from the baking bin and upturned a box of mashed potato flakes from the pantry...but when he tugs at my legs, while I'm cleaning up and I turn around with an exasperated "what?!" I see this...look how pitiful, those red-rimmed eyes swimming in tears and snot running everywhere. We're making the most of it - with a little Beasty Boys...Gus is dancing and bobbing to "Time to get Ill" as I type this. Nothing like a little Hip-Hop to perk us up...
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