Dear Aunt Debby

Dear Aunt Debby:

We thought you might like seeing how we enjoyed your Christmas presents.


Margot: “I’m showing you nothing. I am NOT a Circus Clown Dog. Stop calling me that.”


Pixie: “Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine.” (To human ears, this sounds like, Squeak. Squeak. Squeak. Squeak. Repeat. Forever.)


Guinness: “No, thanks. Did I see treats? I thought I saw treats. I’m pretty sure there are treats.”


Sugar: “I’ll play with the cute Santa–”


Pixie: “MINE. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine.”

Who don’t you see? Penny. Couldn’t be bothered. Until these were opened. Then she snatched one and ran so quickly there was no opportunity to get a photo.

THANKS, AUNT DEBBY.

Love,
Margot, Guinness, Pixie, Penny, and Sugar

P.S. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine.

ETA: Later, here’s the first fatality–Santa Toy–next to the seizure-inducing gnome.

4 thoughts on “Dear Aunt Debby”

  1. Collectively: “Just give us the damn food!”

    Those toys would last approximately 0.2 seconds in our household…

    1. They have another round of toys they received from Lisa. We’re letting this wave of destruction pass before we let them at her gifts. Little hooligans.

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