Tucker. (Rhymes with…)

I’m a light sleeper.
At times, even a non-sleeper.
Last night…
I must have been OUT!

I roll into the kitchen this morning at some un-Godly hour in search of a cup of Joe.
Instead, I found a 9x13 glass Pyrex baking dish shattered into a million tiny little pieces all over the floor.

How does this happen?
And even more puzzling, who doesn’t HEAR a glass Pyrex dish crashing to the floor in the middle of the night!

For the record…
There was only glass on the floor.
Not a trace of the brownies was present.

Say it with me folks…
TUCKER.

I am now officially in the “Tucker Must Die Camp”.
That dog has screwed me over one too many times.
He’s in a bad place now.
I was his only ally in the entire house!

Fucker.

There.
I said it.