Tonight we had a roast for dinner. A big roast. Enough roast for both of us to eat tonight and take for lunch for two days. It was a beautiful roast. Chris cooked it with carrots and potatoes and celery, basted it with luuuve, and then sliced it up for dinner. We fixed our plates and went to eat in the basement (where we eat like animals while we watch Everybody Loves Raymond).
About a half hour later, I take my plate upstairs and there is the plate with the sliced roast – but its empty. Nothing’s there.
I come back downstairs, laughing.
“Oh my gosh, Chris. Were you hungry, honey?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you ate that whole roast.”
“That 5 pound roast that was on the counter.”
“I didn’t eat that. I had two little slices.”
So we kind of exchange looks like we’re crazy and the go back up to the kitchen together to investigate. And this is what we find:
Our 70 pound lab ate a 5 pound roast. And then she got her hiney spanked.