Dog, kid and shoes are all good

I just took a two-minute-long video of Oliver laying against me, snoring like a freight train. This video is guaranteed to be on a loop at some point in time, and I shall cry uncontrollably when watching it. But until then, it's super awesome and funny. He's all loud and cranking. And right now, he's rolled onto his back, and I have an unimpeded view of his foot, tummy and chest. Also, he's still snoring and twitching.
Well, my St. Patrick's Day treasure hunt was well received, in that she dug it, and then asked me if she could have candy before breakfast. I allowed it, of course, but it was painful to see. The best part was that she was amazed that I did it for her, and truly enjoyed that I put forth the effort to give her candy and make her smile. It surprises me that she doesn't realize, and know for a fact, that I'd do most anything to make her smile. Punky kid.
Sydney and I also celebrated the day by going through shoes and piling up the pairs that she's outgrown. Note to self: CHILD DOES NOT NEED FLIP FLOPS. She's got tennies for school and flip flops. That's her life right there in a shoebox. I've got Toms, tennies and flip flops. That's my life in a shoebox. Our lives in shoeboxes are incredibly comfortable. And awesome.