The Friday before my dad came, I wanted to mop the hardwoods, which meant sweeping them first. I went ahead and moved the chairs out of the dining room and put them between the den and the foyer to keep the dogs out of my way while I worked.
Apparently Monte had some separation anxiety.
He belly-crawled his way under the chair.
And into my dirt pile.
And now he’s happy because he’s with me on my side of the chairs.
“Uh, Mom, I think you missed a spot in the bathroom.”