A Piece of Quiet?

This morning, the kids were playing quite nicely, so I sat in my glider with my laptop and attempted to get some work done. Not five minutes later, Will was at my left side with his hands on the arm rest. As he gently moved the chair back and forth, he pleaded with me to let him watch a movie. Enjoying a little bit of quiet, I responded with a negative. Before I finished the sentence, Ben was on my right side, also moving the chair, also asking for a noisy something else to do. I shut the computer, closed my eyes, and took a few calming breaths. I was frustrated. I just want a few more minutes of quiet. I have a few things on my to-do list that I'd really like to cross off. As I concentrated on not getting upset with my boys for interrupting, I realized I was irritated that they were moving my chair. I gently pushed them back from the chair just as Shadow rested his furry graying chin on the top of the computer. It isn't just the kids who need attention around here, the dog and cats seem to want more than I have to give. My deep breathing was not effective with dog-breath pollution. I nudged Shadow back, exclaiming to them all that I needed some space. It was that moment that Shadow chose to start coughing, hacking, and snarling to get something out. I was dreading the second that it would all come up because it would likely start the fifteen minutes of cleaning dog barf. Hack, hackety, hack and up it came. Shadow licked his lips and deposited, on my computer, the sticker he had tried to swallow. I was really thankful he didn't throw up, but the soggy sticker sat on my computer staring back at me all in one piece. I couldn't quit laughing at the canine fortune-telling vending machine that told me to

"Eat Mor Chikin?" Now I wonder how long it will be before I can set foot in a Chick-Fil-A without remembering my black and white dog choking on that sticker.