Pick, pick, pick

I am a little bit at a loss for words. I realize that I have not written much lately, but not much has been coming to mind. I have been thinking about "being a pest." I have been known to pick at people a little bit. I know my sister, wife, and now my daughter would attest to this. I caught myself the other day while Abbie was sleeping. She was sleeping peacefully on the couch and I had this need to run my finger on the bottom of her foot. I wanted to see if she just wiggled her foot, pulled her leg back, scratched her foot, or slapped my hand. Why? I do not know. Amber has asked me before why I persist in picking at people when it is obvious that they are not amused. I guess I just want to see a reaction. I want to see what kind of response I can elicit. I know that sounds childish, but that is about the best explanation I can come up with. It sounds better to me than "I am a jerk who likes to pester people." I even have picked at Little Al while he was sleeping. I am thankful that he is as patient as he is. The old saying about letting sleeping dogs lie just has not set in, I guess. When I was in elementary school we had a dog named Marcus. He was a voracious eater, as most dogs are. He would growl if anyone got within 3 feet of him while he was eating. Well, that was just too cool to me. I can remember him biting me twice when I pestered him while he ate. On my first day of school in the First grade, I thought it would be funny to poke the kid in front of me when he raised his hand. Needless to say, he and I started the first grade school year with our names on the board. I think he got in trouble more because his mother was the teacher, but that is neither here nor there. Does this sound stupid to anyone other than me? I am sure Jami could go on for some time about the numerous ways I have pestered her over the years. I am sorry, I just can not explain it. Anyway, say a prayer for Amber and Abbie, that they do not go crazy living with me.