My life in a shoebox...

I have big feet. I really do. Get them from my dad. But that doesn't mean I'd be comfortable living in my shoe boxes. Try also squeezing in Ella...and her toys...and her bones...and my shoes (Ella wouldn't move in if my shoes weren't part of the deal too), and you're going to need some serious scotch tape to keep that box closed.

And that's where we're at, folks.

I don't know whether it's because Ella is no longer a pint-sized pupper who takes up a mere square foot on the sofa, or because I'm just growing tired of my space in general and am ready to upgrade to a full-on extra-large Rubbermaid storage tub-sized spot. Whatever the reason, we're going to have to start tearing down walls soon.

The clip below is a perfect example of what happens when a pup and her momma live virtually on top of one another. When I eat, Ella's in my lap (can't exactly put her in another room when there is no other room). When I pee, Ella's at my feet (could be worse, I guess). And when I work out, Ella is...well...making it very hard for me to work out. Just watch the video. You'll see what I mean.

A few things to note:
1) Don't skip out on the last segment where Ella is licking the sweat off of my face. I was out of clean face towels so that sort of came in handy.

2) I found out afterward (upon examining the back of the shirt I was wearing) that there was peanut butter all over that mat from one of Ella's treats. That's the kind of thing that just doesn't happen unless you have a dog...or a kid...or you really want to nullify your workout by busting out the Skippy as soon as you're done with Core Max...

3) Please ignore the pained look on my face. What can I say...it hurt.