The Dog Didn’t Eat Cara’s Homework But She Might As Well Have

Part of the “required gear” for kindergarten kids is a sign on their backpacks with their name, who is picking them up, make and color of car and the adult’s phone number.

I worked one up in Photoshop and had Tucker print off multiple versions we could change out if she was walking or if I was picking her up in my SUV or Tucker was picking her up in his car. The place for Cara’s backpack–complete with the required signs–is next to our desk in our room.

Today was gymnastics day for both kids so I shut Sophie up in our bedroom since she has developed a habit of shredding trash when she has access to all of the house. Also, all of our windows were open since it’s been so pretty and I was scared she’d get super excited and jump through a screen.

ANYWAY, you know where this is going.

Let me just say, I never had a dog in the house when I was growing up so the idea a dog would literally eat a kid’s homework always left me rolling my eyes.

I came home tonight bearing food and two asshole acting kids and I was in a hurry to choke down the food in time to get on my Frontburnr conference call and let the kids’ dad deal with them.

As I walked into our bedroom, I was greeted with shredded paper: Cara’s signs.

I hate our dog.