This weekend, temptation paid me a visit again. As my daughter and I marched purposely through the mall, our battalion having been deployed and Operation Prom Dress in full force, we encountered a small roadblock. Somewhere between the car and the store of gaudy evening attire, some stupid leasing agent put a pet store in our path. And there she was -- a too-adorable rescue puppy who only had eyes for us. So, before either of us -- the power-shopping Berg girls -- could engage our brains, we were sending pictures home to the General. "Can we have her? Puleeease!" my daughter texted, all thumbs. Fortunately, the man known as "Dad" was able to talk us off the cliff from his safe harbor, 15 miles away from the furry little bundle of fun with the metronome tail...
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