Bottle-Cap Sundaes

When we got home with the twins, we let them run into the house. Mozart had been sleeping in the study by the window, so he hadn’t heard us drive up. Suddenly, the twins were all over him—licking him, pawing him, and jumping at him. They loved him immediately. The feeling was not mutual. He came running toward the garage.

"Dad, come quick. We have dogs in here. Help me round them up, so we can get rid of them."

"We don’t want to get rid of them."

"Very funny. Seriously, we have to move quickly, before they get into everything. They could break things or chew things—or worse."

"I’m not worried. All my things are up, out of the way."

"Oh, great. Here we are in the midst of a crisis and you’re going to start with the short jokes. Get a grip. These are just puppies. I bet they aren’t even house trained."

"You weren’t house trained, but we survived."

By now the twins had checked out all the rooms in the house. They found us in the living room.

"Hey, there you are," said Whoopi. "This place is enormous. What a cool house."

"Yes, I guess it is. By the way, let me do the introductions. This is Mozart. He’s in a state of shock right now, but when he comes out of it, he’ll be the best friend you guys could ever have. Mozart, this is Whoopi and her brother Elvis."

"Hi Mozart," they said, nearly in unison.

Whoopi and Elvis jumped at Mozart and tried to climb on top of him. He wasn’t having any of it and ran into the bedroom. They chased after him. Ditching them for a minute, Mozart rejoined me in the living room.

"Seriously, Dad, we have to get rid of these dogs."

"Mozart, they are now a part of our family. You’ll learn to love them."

"But they are following me everywhere. They jump on me and lick me and won’t leave me alone."

"Now, Mozart, let me see if I can think of a similar experience..."

"Come on, there’s no comparison. You love it when I do those things to you."

Before he could say another word, Whoopi came running and Mozart raced to the bedroom with her hot on his heels. Elvis walked over and looked up at me.

"What a beautiful house. Do you really live here? Is this really your home?"

I sat down on the floor and picked him up. "No, Elvis, this is really our home. And you, and Whoopi, are also going to live here for as long as Mom, Mozart, and I do."

"Honest to God?" he whispered.

"Honest to God, Elvis. Welcome home."

Tears came to his eyes. Then he put his head on my chest and fell asleep.