Usually, when my husband has Morgan out for play time in the evening, they play some games because Morgan is really into problem solving and she needs to use her brain as much as her body. So, they play a game where he hides things for her and she finds them. He hides both treats and favorite toys for her and she loves both. But sometimes the games people play have unexpected turns that they never saw coming. It’s even worse when they play tricks on themselves.
The other night was like most nights when Morgan is out. The Greyhounds were in the bedroom, Küster was downstairs and Morgan was in the living room, ready to play. First, she ran over to the toy box, dug to the bottom and found the flamingo toy that she loves. Why she seeks this toy out every time, I don’t know, but she will go to great lengths to locate it. She’ll usually even bring her prize over once she finds it to let you know that she has it.
On this particular night, she had a rousing game of toss the flamingo going with Mr. Taleteller. This entailed her bringing the flamingo to him, him taking it and either tossing it or hiding it behind his back followed by Morgan tracking it down and then forcing it back into his hand. After this game had gone on for a little while, it took a bizarre turn.
My husband was sitting in the chair, waiting for her to return with the flamingo. All of a sudden, Morgan made a lunge for his crotch. If you’ve ever known a guy, you can predict a bit of what happened next. My husband’s voice rose a few octaves as he made a shield over the family jewels with one hand and held Morgan back with the other.
Mr. Taleteller: Morgan, what are you doing!
Morgan: It’s mine! Give it to me!
Me: Oh my God! I can’t breathe! *accompanied by hysterical laughter*
Mr. Taleteller: I mean it! Get back! I’m not that kind of boy!
Morgan: I will have it!
Me: *a puddle of mirth on the floor*
After about the third lunge by Morgan towards my husband’s sensitive nether region, he decided that perhaps he was going to have to get up and move to a safer place, like locked behind the bathroom door. I was laughing too hard to be of any help at all. Morgan looked like a cartoon character, complete with bulging eyes and a string of drool coming from her mouth.
Finally, I wheezed “Don’t you have the flamingo behind your back?” My husband reached behind him. Morgan froze in place, staring intently. Mr. Taleteller’s face turned to one of puzzlement as he realized the flamingo was not behind his back. He stood up and lo and behold, a dog treat appeared out of his pocket. He hadn’t been playing the hide the treat game, at least, not on purpose, but Morgan was.
Fortunately, no delicate areas were injured in the making of this blog post. The only damage was to my husband’s pride. Morgan was pretty happy when she got that treat, I can tell you that. Clearly, she won the game this time, and I have a feeling she’ll be checking my husband’s pockets for a long time to come.