Got Milk?

Dear Diary,

Mom has to keep the cookie jar filled because sometimes dad gets up in the middle of the night and goes downstairs to have cookies and milk (yes, even an old man like him). Mercy and I followed him last night and jumped up on the kitchen counter while he took the milk carton out of the fridge and set it on the counter while getting a glass. Mercy sat and waited patiently while I tried to knock the milk carton over, so dad gave us a few drops. Mercy was satisfied and went back to bed, but not me! Dad took his cookies and milk and headed for the computer so I followed him. I tried to stick my head in his glass, but when he wouldn't let me have any, I started to walk all over him and the keyboard. Did it work? You bet! He poured a little puddle directly onto the computer table, just for me.

Dad told mom this story and she rolled her eyes. She told him we are not suppose to have milk and he insisted that he had never heard such a thing and that if he doesn't give me milk I harass him, so he needs to give me a little. I tend to agree with dad!

Mom won the argument today when she told dad to go look at the nice present that she saw me leave in the litter box, just for him. He barely had to look, since it had a distinct aroma that anyone could identify.

Phooey!!

--Riley