Cute, isn't it?
I remember the days when we were allowed to have potatoes.
Don't be blindly taken in by his contrite appearance. You think he doesn't know what he's doing? Look at him.
All getting your sympathy. See, right now, you're thinking, "Awww....look at that face. He feels so bad about what he's done. You are horrible people for not giving him a doggie biscuit right now and telling him he's a good doggie woggie wumpkins. Isn't he? Isn't he a good little wumpkins?? Yes. Yes he is."
That's how he gets you. He mopes around all sad, and then you forgive him and then WHAM!! Tissue party in the living room! YAY!! YAY!! Oh, what, you people were planning on using that entire box all by yourselves??? Gosh, I'm sorry....