I couldn't not believe what comed outta Momma's brains tonight; she sayed what it bees my turn for to do the dishes acause she bees sick 'n tired what all a time she gots a do everthin'. I tole her, I isn't no monkey, Momma, I's a boxer dog; I doesn't gots no fingies for scrubbin' plates. But she sayed, you uses yous feets just fine for buryin' bones, George; I is sure what you can scrape some bisgetti offa them plates. So I licked a couple clean, and I breaked a few, and then Momma sayed what she guesses what she really doos gots a do everthin' her own self now, don't she. Which, I ain't gettin' no liver snaps tonight; but sometime I gots a take a little pains for to help Momma memember what all bees what all.