I've been sad since Mom left.
And I'm skeptical about Dad's ability to keep the house in order without her.
Sometimes it's hard getting up in the morning.
But there's work to do.
Like making sure the connections are connected.
And chewing my bone.
And putting up Dad's shoes. He leaves them all over the floor.
Sometimes I let my little sister sit in Dad's lap.
But not for very long. Dad needs me.
I think we'll all pull through this.
I don't know what the hell his problem is.
While the dog mopes around, I have my hands full. Rolling the bath towels.
Sorting the dish rags.
Or gathering the hangers.
To hang the shirts.
When I'm not doing housework, I occupy myself with my myriad of hobbies. Like exercising.
Lying in wait to ambush the dog.
Rubbing my face on everything.
Or saving the boys by fighting off invisible enemies.
So, yeah, I mean, everything's going pretty well.