I regret to inform you that calling me the most handsome of your dogs doesn't do it for me. It just isn't enough right now. Although I do like the belly scratches that make me do the upside-down running man, that just isn't enough. I want more like a band needs more cowbell.
I really just can't keep putting up with this little shit you claim to be my brother. Today, dad tried to tell you that you couldn't prove who ate all the juice boxes, so it could have been me. Mom, that is some bullshit. You know I wouldn't have gotten up to eat juice boxes! I might have gotten up if you had left a ham on the counter but since you didn't, dad is out of luck in this blame game! And, what is up with sharing the bed. That used to just be ours Mom, and now we have to share it with Jack and Dad. I liked it better when it was just us, but now I don't even get a pillow anymore. I am not a fan, fix this, or I am going to fart near your cooking and everyone will think it is your food and not me. Make a good decision here mom.