Self Control

The other day when I was outside in the backyard I noticed Sherman sitting in front of our patio table staring at a something red. It was a tomato that my son had picked and forgot to bring inside.

Sherman was sitting there drooling and staring at it, inching ever so close

I told him to “Leave it” which he did.

Then he looked away, I guess thinking that if he didn’t look at it he wouldn’t be tempted.

Then he looked back again

Nope, still tempted.

Look away from the tomato.

Go away tomato

Leroy came right up and grabbed the frickin tomato! I laughed so hard I almost peed my pants.

Sherman however did not find this at all amusing.

He looked at me, looked at Leroy, and then looked backed at me.

If he could talk, (which by the way he can) I think his comments would of went a little something like this:

Really?! What the hell! I sat there for 15 minutes praticing my self control. 15 minutes of PURE HELL, because you my mother told me to “leave it” which I did. Then this big dork comes over, plops his sorry butt right in front of me, you tell him to “leave it” which he does not, and eats the damn thing! Then you , my mother laugh so hard you almost pee your pants. What is wrong with you people?  Doesn’t good looks and good manners mean anything anymore?

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