My birthday was February 1st. Mommy and Daddy forgot. They had their excuses, we were having a snowstorm and that always upsets them. Mommy worries about digging out and Daddy worries about her working too hard digging us out. Anyway, they forgot it was my birthday.
I didn’t care. One day is the same as another to me. I spend my time looking after my Daddy. I stay with Daddy all the time. I sleep with him, and when he is awake I am either beside him in his recliner, or riding around with him in his wheelchair.
The first time Daddy gave me a ride he thought I wouldn’t like it. Boy, was he wrong! I love to ride and it is great fun to roll around the house and yard with Daddy. I can see more of what’s going on from his lap and it is soooo comfortable!
I was 10 years old on Feb. 1st. Last night when Mommy got home from work, Daddy told her they had forgotten it and that not only had they not bought me a new toy, they never sang “Happy Birthday” to me. I hope they don’t! Daddy sings OK, but Mommy, that’s another story.
I wish Daddy understood that I don’t really want another toy, or to have a song sung to me. All I want is to wake up next to Daddy every morning and ride around with him all day; or nap with him in the recliner. That’s all that matters to me.