Fridays are for eating soft-serve.
Saturdays are for relaxing with pups you are lucky enough to babysit.
They are for finding old things and remembering how cool they are, like your middle school diary with a key in the back to tell you who you wrote what poems about. Thanks, emo 12-year-old Jen.
They are for finding old books your mom gave you for Christmas one year.
They are for walking pups who are tired of watching you organize everything.
Sundays are for celebrating mothers. Dog mommies.
That’s what weekends are for.