Miss Pouty Face

I love three-day weekends, except for the part where I collapse in a heap on the evening of the third day. 

By last night, I was chored out, ridden out and tired out. All I could do was park myself in a chair and let the herd come to me.

Lucy was the first to greet me. No surprise there.

 She's a sponge for love and attention.

So is Hank.

Hank: Move over. My turn.

Lucy: I'll get out of the way ... but not before putting on my best pouty face.