Mr. B and I had this conversation about dogs when we were together last month.

Or was it 2 months ago? Either way, it should have been 2 seconds ago. This long distance crap is getting old. Like sour milk old.

Here's how I started the conversation:

I think small dogs are lazy and pointless.

Yep. I'd agree with that.

I want a big dog. A real one that I can go running with.

And it won't ever be allowed in the house.

Sometimes I might let the dog come inside during the winter so he doesn't freeze to death.

Sometimes I might get frustrated at you for doing that.

Well, then sometimes you can sleep on the couch!

Sometimes that will never happen.

Sometimes I might want to punch you in the face and run away real fast.

Sometimes I'll catch you and tackle you to the ground. Ha!

Then he reached across the console in the car to make sure I had all my ribs. I pretended that it hurt so I could catch my breath.

Why does he always win?

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