In the way?

I don't get it. I mean, I'm an easy going dog. I know I'm the favorite. I'm a lap dog for crying out loud. But all of a sudden I'm in the way? I know this because I heard mommy yell "would you get out of my way you big, fat, lazy dog!" I don't know how to put a positive spin on something like that. Apparently I'm not allowed to sit or stand where I want in my own house. I believe it started when we got home from work last night. Mommy works the farthest away--she has to drive. Then Michael works across the street at Aunt Sharon's--mommy picks him up on her way home--and then Jackie, Pepper and I work outside. More specifically we work in the north west corner of our yard where we can best keep an eye out for intruders coming or going from Aunt Sharon's house (just because Michael is at work doesn't mean he doesn't need us to keep an eye on him). The cat gets to work inside. Talk about lazy--I don't even think she gets all the mice herself--she has an assistant. I believe it's called a mouse trap. So to get back to yesterday. We walked in the house and apparently the first thing that everybody but me noticed was that the light fixture cover thing was on the floor. Now, I'm a big dog and my feet are very far away from my eyes and I can't be responsible for everything I step on. So yes, I did kick that around a little bit. Three times. And then because I wasn't sure if I had greeted mommy properly when I jumped on her at the car I gave her a couple of kisses. I tried to report in on how the day had gone--there was some unusual activity going on across the road--but I guess she wanted to get dinner ready before we talked so fine, maybe I dogged (ha ha--dogged) her steps a little bit more than necessary. Whatever. And she's added a new twist to the day. It's not enough that Michael is allowed on the couch now and tries to climb all over me when I'm taking a nap but now he has to be involved in dinner time. Mommy is trying to teach him to do chores. So I have to pretend to be patient and point and say "oh how cute" when the little guy is carrying cups of food over to dump in the dog bowls. And if he spills it? I have to sit there and patiently wait while he picks it all up even though it would be much quicker if I helped. So I figure maybe mommy wants me to learn chores, too. I noticed that she was feeding Michael and I decided to lend her a hand (she would say that I just want to steal Michael's cheerios but my motives were purely helpful) and I guess we don't have our routine worked out exactly right yet because mommy tripped over me a couple of times (and this is where the yelling comes into the story...) and then all of a sudden I was being banned from the kitchen. I think we know who needs to work on her patience.