Carlos is Magic II

Carlos has this pecuilar was of stepping on the remote--normally while we are in the middle of a show --and changing the channel. He can find buttons we didn't even know existed. Tonight? Carlos changed the channel to Telemundo. No lie.

We've got a talented dog on our hands. And apparently we were right in naming him Carlos. Viva la televisio!

Super Dog!

Carlos is magic. He ate a whole snickers and a twix bar and he is still alive. (Re: Carlos is our dog. Not a neighbor friend, relative or child.) No weird poop, not vomiting, no death. He's magic.

Now if only we could get him to clean the dishes off the table after he makes us dinner every night. That would really be something to rave about.

Carlos says "Hairy Christmas!"

(Look, you don't have to laugh. It's not that funny. Truth is, I was at my parents house and I had this old picture of Carlos in a Burberry scarf and I posted it with a cheesy tagline. You caught me at a weak moment. I ran out of material. I ran out of material and I couldn't write about my family because they read this blog. So, don't laugh. Really, it's okay. Merry Christmas. Seriously. Merry, not Hairy. In fact, do not have a hairy christmas. I don't even know what that means.)