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A Walk to Remember (Mostly for the Snacks)
Walking the dog with my daughter is an exercise not so much in fitness but in the fine art of negotiation. The dog—let’s call him Sir Wigglesworth, even if his pedigree screams “charming mutt”—has priorities that consist almost entirely of sniffing every single lamppost. My daughter, on the other hand, is already lobbying for a stop at the bakery (a muffin for her, a treat for Sir Wigglesworth, and perhaps a tiny espresso for myself because, frankly, I’ve earned it).
The stroll begins with optimism—birds chirping, the leash elegantly coiled in hand like some chic accessory. But soon, we resemble a slightly comedic trio: the dog dragging us in one direction, while my daughter philosophizes about muffins with the gravity of a food critic sworn to secrecy.
Still, moments of magic pepper our walks—like when Sir Wigglesworth pauses his relentless sniffing to glance back at us with what I swear is a knowing smile. Or when my daughter takes my hand and insists we walk just a little slower, “so the muffin moment feels earned.”
And so, our humble expedition becomes something oddly splendid—simple joys dressed up as everyday elegance.
Cheerio, my dears! Until muffin o’clock!
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