My Little Girls

AAAHHHhhhhh Lucy. My little girl in a fuzzy tuxedo. My youngest of the 2 Boston Terrorists. So crazy! So stupid! So used by Pebbles, my other fuzzy daughter in a chihuahua suit. Pebbles was the one we saved from a puppy farm 5 years ago. She abuses and uses Lucy to do all her bidding. Sorta like me with you, my minions. This little girl is like the big sister of the group. She sends the stupid goofy little sister (Lucy) to come ask mommy for treats and if they can go outside in the 7000 degree heat of Texas.

Lucy, my little mushyface babygirl

So here comes Lucy, trotting up to my desk where I'm answering emails and sending threatening notes of death and destruction to my family and friends. I notice Lucy looks back at the kitchen where Pebbles is peaking around the corner to watch and make sure the goofy one is asking the right question. But Lucy tends to forget what she came for. You see I have these amazing powers of persuasion too. All I have to do is let her come to me and get up into my lap and just touch her with my magic massaging fingers and Lucy forgets why she's here on this earth. I can almost see the rubber burning in her tiny pea brain... smoke drifting from her ears.  I can literally hear her thoughts..."Duh, Duh huh. Um mommy can we ... oh that feels good, duh huh."

Out of the kitchen comes poor Pebbles. Probably muttering to herself, "I swear, I always have to do this shit myself...she's too freaking stupid to remember what I sent her out here for."
Next thing I feel is Pebbles scratching at my arm on the chair. So I let them outside. Hell, I don't know what they want. I'm just guessing as I play along. When I let them back in, Lucy comes back to me about 15 minutes later.
"Duh huh, uh mom? ... Oh that feels good, duh huh."
From the kitchen I think I heard Pebbles mumbling, " Ah Shit!"
It's a vicious cycle I tell ya.