Every evening, the routine is typical. We come home, we eat dinner and the Roo, official pet number one, looking in from the external wet kitchen, barks to get attention. This can be quite annoying and especially so when the day at the office was a brain-sapping one.
Rooney is not allowed in the house because his drool is just to gross for us to deal with when it drips onto the marble floor. But we play with him in the garden. Occasionally, curiosity gets the better of him and he would saunter into the house to wander into the dining room, dry kitchen and the courtyard just to appease his wonder of the house. Most times, he pretends not to see us, thinking if he does not see us, we will not see him and he won’t be caught!
There was one evening M2 brought him back to the external wet kitchen after playing in the garden and he went back grudgingly. Feeling unsatisfied, he came back out to the garden again and made a ruckus insisting it has to be Mummy—me—to lead him back and that M2 bringing him back doesn’t count.
M1 shot him a disgusted look and muttered “Hrmph. What a brat! Being Mummy’s boy.”
Come to think of it, if hubby attempts, he wouldn’t even budge, what more the girls. So indeed, he’s being Mummy’s boy, a bratty one though.
I’m not looking at you so you can’t see me!
Angieneering 
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