All the planning. All the packing. Suitcases everywhere. Mom isn’t paying any attention to me at all and then she’s going to leave me.
It’s just going to be me and Dad while she’s living it up in HOUSTON. She gets to work all day long at some place called The George Brown. Whoever that is. I bet if George Brown had a dog, he’d stay home with it.
Mom tells everybody she’s going to be in “Row Q.” I don’t know what that is either, but I bet she can’t even find it without me. And she sounds so happy about going! Can dogs pout? I’m pouting.
I want to go to Houston too.