Dear floor gods

Please stop demanding so many food sacrifices from my kid.  It's no coincidence that kids begin throwing their food on the floor right around the time that they are getting real close and personal with it.  I'm convinced that at the first chance, the first sign of fresh baby recruit crawling off out of their parent's sight, the floor gods get them and start demanding sacrifices.

It wasn't so bad when Layla was this age.  At the time we had two dogs with fairly solid stomachs.  Now we have a pathetic dog who gets the shits from even smelling cheese.  Let alone the avocado, pasta, carrot, and cabbage offerings that Evie likes to make.  Okay, I get wanting to chuck the cabbage, but the rest?  And she's made this process half way to a full blown religion by adding an almost ritualistic element to the process.  Take a bite, sacrifice a bite, take a bite, sacrifice a bite.  Heck, even the big guy only requires a 10% tithe.  Greedy floor gods must be brought down.

I took the first step in this mission yesterday without intending to.  While throwing an apple core out the window at a raven begging in the Fred Meyer parking lot, the stupid bird didn't see it coming and got nailed.  Take that raven, and pass the message along to your brethren.  I'm gunning for ya.  My next goal is to nail the eagle that likes to perch on the giant plastic roller skate outside the roller rink.  It's hard to look regal when you're sitting on a size 453 plastic roller skate.