No rest for the wicked

My father always used to say "There's no rest for the wicked."

There was no rest for me Sunday evening.

These two girls did their best to plead with me to go outside and throw the ball for them.  First, they used their eyes to beg me.   ("Cow eyes, " Erika calls them.) 

Then, when the sad eyes didn't do the trick, Bonnie started yodeling.

Darby stuck with the cow eyes. 

And, of course, they convinced me!

P.S.  Harry, comfortably curled up on the chair, looked on with disdain!