O.M.G.

Schmooblebons has been all but begging on his hands and knees for me to agree to get a puppy for the last week. And I have been the party-pooping, nay-saying adult the whole time, talking about things like money and time and apartment-living and responsibility and BELA, etc etc etc. Despite every urge inside me to say OMG YES YES YES PUPPYPUPPYWUPPY I WOULD WUV HIM SO VEWY VEWY MUUUCH!! 

Someone in high heaven please tell me how and/or why I ended up being the responsible one in this relationship??

Also, someone please tell me how it is that Schmoobs also insists on wanting annoyingly small little yippy dogs with breed names like "Croodle" and "Yorkie Poo" or "Proodle Doodle Puff" (I made that last one up), when everybody knows that the only dogs that are capable of instantly penetrating the icy cold blackness of my heart are Beagles, Shepherds, Sheepdogs, Retrievers and anything that weighs more than me and that I could ride to school, were I still 12 years old. 

But, seriously, someone also needs to tell me why I shouldn't get in my car and go collect one OR ALL of these groin-grabbingly cute nuggets and bring them all home right this second! OUCH my heart just exploded!!

***

ETA: I heard this about 5 seconds before I passed out last night (from sleepiness or sheer shock, you decide): "Actually, you know what I really want? I think they're called...Goldendoodles."