When we have steak for dinner, and no one saves a piece for Tchoups, he gives me the same look that my dad gave me in high school when he found out that I made up a fake weekend field trip, complete with faux permission slip, when I was really planning to spend the weekend partying w friends. "It's not so much that I'm angry with you. I am just SO DISAPPOINTED. It will take a while for you to earn my trust again." Sorry, Tchoups.