Dodged a bullet

Despite the prediction from my brother, we did not experience a crapalanche as a result of The Great Chocolate Feast of 2008. When I returned home tonight from my trip Hudson was with his grandparents for the night, Mike was already on a flight to Arkansas and the dogs (and the house) were no worse for the wear.

Timber:

Maximillion:

Unfortunately, the Great Chocolate Feast has ruined Max's diet. When I took him to the vet for his annual check-up a few weeks ago the vet informed me that he needs to lose 10 pounds and handed me a brochure on canine obesity. Poor Max. Trouble is, despite my best efforts, Max always seems to find a way to feed himself. A month ago he discovered the 30 pound bag of dog food that Mike had left in the garage after bringing it home from the store earlier that day. He proceeded to eat a hole through the bag and helped himself to a whole lotta food. Now it looks like he's going to have to hit the gym again to burn off all this chocolate.

I did, however, find something very strange when I got home. I have recently gotten back into using my bread maker and I try to always have a loaf around. This thing is 12 years old so I am shocked that it still makes such great bread.



I put in a loaf of cinnamon-raisin on Sunday evening so Mike would have some warm bread when he got up on Monday morning. This is all that remains of that loaf.

So I ask: What was the point of leaving such a tiny piece? I mean, really - one half of one tiny slice? Just finish it off already. Geesh.