So I found a round tin of what appears to be cookies on my desk today. Everybody got them but I don’t know who they’re from. Rumor has it the boss got them for everybody but I don’t know that for sure. I mean it could be an assassination attempt. Poot has tried to kill me twice this month by grabbing my foot while I am heading toward the stairs and once while walking toward the glass coffee table. If not for my ninja like reflexes my wife’s dog would have ended my life, in a manner that would have looked like a complete accident, which we all know is the perfect assassination! I don’t know why Poot wants me dead but I suspect it has something to do with a ball, or food, or a ball made of food. But that is just a guess. It could also have something to do with the fact that the dogs stocking is empty. Last year their stocking was filled with goodies well before everyone else’s. It seems to me the ole girl may be feeling a little left out and is trying to grab my attention about it. I should probably find a way to tell her that killing me is a bad way to fill a stocking and it would actually put her on Santa’s naughty list! Ok it was just cookies! Turns out the boss here bought a big tin of cookies for everyone and they are this really nice ginger cookie that are thin and crisp and very nice to eat! Hooray for the holidays!
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