So I was making eggs for breakfast. I had peeled a clementine and put it on Elliot's plate on the kitchen counter, then got out the eggs, and cracked and scrambled, like ya do. Then I turned to the stove to cook the eggs.
No, the dog didn't eat the clementine.
When I finished the eggs, and turned around to scoop them onto the plate, it was gone. So was Elliot. He was at the (counter high with swivel bar stools) dining room table, plate of citrusy goodness in front of him, happily seated and digging in.
He's climbed in his own chair for a while now, but this is the first serve yourself meal I've seen him do. As far as I can tell, he didn't spill, and the dog didn't try to steal the plate along the way.
I kinda hope next time I turn my back, he's done the dishes. I'll let you know.
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