The best day of my life

The best day of my life

Hi everybody, hi, hello, I am PEPPA POTATO and I am writing the post today! Because I want to tell you about my day yesterday! It was the best day ever!

First I pooped on the floor near Uncle Jeff’s room even though Mama and Uncle Jeff have put up a thing called a “baby gate” that keeps me out of the hallway which is where I used to sneak off to poop. I don’t like to tell Mama that I need to go poopoos because a girl needs privacy, AM I RIGHT???? And I don’t know how to poop in the cat box, so I can’t go in there. And why would I want to, because then I’d contaminate my treats!

Mama doesn’t know when I pooped because she was sitting on the couch drinking her Happy Magic WakeUp Juice. And I snuggled her a lot because the other night she put me on her lap when I was trying to climb into Uncle Jeffy’s lap to play with the Spicy Puppy that was snuggling him, and nobody liked that for some reason? So Mama put me in her lap saying that I was “making bad choices” and I don’t know what that means but now I want to sit in Mama’s lap all the time because maybe that’s a Good Choice and anyway it’s warm and snuggly.

Then I got to supervise Uncle Jeffy doing some “work” and I don’t know what “work” is but Mama usually wakes me up when we’re watching TV to see other doggos doing things like pulling sleds and rescuing people on mountains and she says something about how those are Good Working Dogs. I don’t think Good Working Dogs can use shovels but Uncle Jeffy can and he did a good job of making everything what he calls “level”. He didn’t get to work as much as he wanted to yesterday because of the rain but I kind of like the rain because it makes these things called “poodles” and I play in them and splash around and try to drink the water that makes Mama yell “Jesus Christ Dog You Have Clean Water Inside.”

Mama kept me on the leash most of the day yesterday when I wasn’t in her office in the studio. Something about “Needing a New Leash for the House” and “Making Uncle Jeffy Presents He Doesn’t Like.” Oh! Oh! But! I must have really been being a Good Girl because we got to go to the Mart of Walls! It is pretty cool, we just drive up and a really nice guy who likes doggies and petted me through the window and told me what a Good Potato I was asked Mama her name and then put a ton of stuff in the trunk of the car. Then we got to go get “Fast Food” which I’ve never gotten before but Mama isn’t feeling well and didn’t feel like cooking but wanted to thank Uncle Jeffy for all the hard work he’s doing today. And guess what? I saw a really nice lady talking to Mama through the windows so I whined and whined until Mama rolled my window down so my new Auntie Arby’s could tell me what a Good Potato I was! And then she asked Mama if I would like a Pup Cup! And you know I love Pup Cups!

Mama let Auntie Arby’s give me the first part of the Pup Cup but she didn’t want to hold up traffic so we pulled out of the parking lot and then she only let me have more when we were at red lights even though I whined and yipped to let her know I was back there and hadn’t fallen out of the car or forgotten about my delicious Pup Cup.

Then when I got home Mama unloaded as much of the car as she felt up to unloading and one of the things she got at the Mart of Walls was a new 20′ leash that she crawled under the couch to attach one end to. And now when she’s having her Happy Magic WakeUp Juice in the morning I can reach my breakfast bowl and my bed and get up on the couch but now I can’t get over to my private corner to make Uncle Jeff a present. Don’t worry I’m sure I will figure something out.

Anyway that was my day yesterday and it was the Best Day Ever and I am a Good Potato and thank you for reading! I loves yous!


3 thoughts on “0

  1. Aww Potato is a good girl. I too have a Jesus Christ dog who drinks out of the dirty water giant buckets outside too. Dogs will be dogs unfortunately!

  2. You are a great writer, Potato!
    One day you’ll learn what presents we give Uncle Jeffy and which ones we don’t.

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