It finally happened.
We aren’t a scheduling sort of family.
We are a helping sort of family.
The dogs are fed dinner between 5-6. It is not anyone’s particular assigned duty.
You see where this is going.
Here's how it happened:
We have different jobs, activities, and lifestyles. There is no set time for meals or family check-ins. We don’t routinely gather at a certain place or time of day to spend time together.
No, we don’t eat meals together and we don’t even eat the same thing. (I know, I know – you do your family your way. This is our way.)
If someone sees a task that needs to be done -- taking the trash out for example -- they do it. I believe that in a family, everyone shares the work. Obviously in a previous life, I was a herding dog.
I have worked hard to make this happen. Since my children were toddlers they were expected to help. As toddlers, their “help” often created more work, but I was investing for the future.
After grocery shopping, everyone carried a bag into the house. Usually, I had to rearrange the bag contents, overloading the adult-carried bags to make lighter child-carried bags. But everyone helped.
Caution! Three year-olds are enthusiastic helpers, but the eggs might not make it into the house intact. It happens. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
I fed the dogs their dinner. I made my dinner: scrambled eggs on toast. I had some leftover, so the dogs got a little bonus treat. Then I went about my evening tasks.
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![]() Sandy |
![]() Arya |
My son and granddaughter came home. He made her dinner: steak. While it cooked, he fed the dogs. Naturally, the granddaughter didn’t finish her steak. So you guessed it, the dogs get a little extra after dinner treat. |
Enter me. I see the dogs licking their bowls.
I ask my son, “Did you feed the dogs?”
“Yes.”
“So did I.”
I turn to the dogs. “Sandy? Did you get a second dinner?” Sandy avoids all eye contact.
“Arya? Did you get a second dinner?” Arya avoids all eye contact.
Neither dog displayed any remorse.
The next morning, both dogs feigned near starvation when I was delayed getting their breakfast. Poor things.
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