I was downstairs this morning milling about in the kitchen when I heard Oliver inform me that he needed to let Scout inside.
If you've been in my kitchen (or have gotten an idea of the layout of our home from photos) you'll know that when you're standing in the kitchen, you can't see anyone or anything less than 3 feet tall in the dining room because of the high counter dividing the two rooms. A lucky fact for our less-than-3-feet-tall residents when they're trying to do something sneaky.
So, I paid little attention to what was taking place in the next room. A few moments later I noticed that the door to the back patio hadn't been closed completely, so I asked Oliver to close it.
"Yes, Ma'am!" (In an overly cheerful and quick to obey tone.)
I mean, I always knew it was possible, but it seemed a little too good to be true. What gives?
Oliver quickly closed the door and as I turned the corner to see what was going on in the lower 3 feet of the dining room all my questions were answered.
Oliver was carrying (very quickly and very quietly) a huge pitcher of dirt into my home.
I knew it was too good to be true.
(I know, I put this photo in the last post too. But, it's my blog, and the picture is just so appropriate and so sweet!)