And it would be a party if it weren’t for the fact that my aunt closes the door, leaving me in a room of my own wet spots and smells, feeding me the bare minimum and letting my water go until the bowl is dry. Mom! Come home!
I mean, mom lets me outside and she lets me poop right by where she poops and she doesn’t yell or make weird faces when she cleans it up. When mom’s home, she takes showers and lets me roll around in the wet tub afterward. [Right now the shower is dry and crusty, little roaches are starting to crawl up and out which means work for me.] Mom! Come home!
Mom may pick me up by the armpits and swing me around [she thinks it is good for my spinal health]. She pokes me and pushes me around just to make me mad but I gotta love her. Mom! Come home!
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