You guys. I have the craziest wild man in my house right now and that is saying something, because I also live with George. And both are giving me an actual run for my money.

I bought George May a dog bed last week and that ungrateful little shit tore a hole in it in less than 24-hours. I'm guessing he takes personal offense to my suggestion that he sleep somewhere other than my couch.

Now Duke B, he's a whole other bag. One that makes me laugh so much. Except when I cry. Like for instance, today, when I pulled everything out of my fridge, including the shelves to give it a good scrub. I turned my back for a second - moms, you know I'm not exaggerating -- and found my big boy going pee-pee in the empty fridge.

And he smiled at me, you guys. He was expecting that "yay Duke!" celebration that we throw every time he hits the potty. And I wanted to give it to him, because he was self-applauding so sweetly, but at the end of the day, I'm not cool with pee in my fridge. So if you know how to correct this, please get at me pronto.