Forgotten Son

Do you forget we have a dog? I do. I mean I remember every morning when Alex tells me he has fed him or when I ask Alex if he has fed him. I also remember at night when he is throwing himself against the door because he wants to come inside. I also remember when Zach tells me that “shut-up Norman” is a bad word. Noted.

But most of the time, let’s face it, he is our redheaded step-child. Which I obviously feel I can say being a redhead. Between jobs and two babies we have time to feed Norm, pet him at night and “encourage” him to lay down on his mat in the back room. Might I point out his “mat” is a flat dog bed with not much padding because he has torn apart every other mat he has ever had.

Well this Christmas Lauren gave Zach a chair to match James’. James got his for his birthday and Zachary has been coveting it and sitting/squishing/standing/rolling on it ever since. Well now he has his own to torture at will.

Or does he.

That does not say Norman.

But my sweet first born said, “That’s OK Norman we can share.”

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