Dog Food

This morning Claire asked for a corndog for breakfast. Not the healthiest of breakfast treats, but I obliged. She's drinking milk, and with the breading and meat of the corndog, we've got three food groups covered.
I had to make a short phone call, and while I was on the phone, she ate what she wanted and abandoned the corndog. She likes to eat on the fireplace. It's the same height ratio as the table is to us. She can stand and eat in case she has to quickly run to get Baby Doll or harass Paul.
After I finished talking, I asked her if she had finished the corndog. "It's gone," she said.
I found the stick in Wesley's mouth, licked clean.