“That’s your dog,” I say, my fingers pressed against my temple as the puppy whines in the back seat. The boys fuss over him, fighting over names.
“We are going to call him Lucky,” says Alvin.
“No. Slug!,” says Ian, laughing.
“You are not naming him Slug,” I say, angry, twisting to glare at the boys. “He has to live his whole life with that name.”
“If it’s my dog,” Victor says, smirking, “Then why do you care?”
I roll my eyes, murmuring “Fine, do whatever you want. But have fun explaining to your constituents why their First Dog’s name is Slug.”
Victor nods, considering. “True. Boys! Slug is off the table.” Alvin cheers and Ian moans.
“Seriously, Victor,” I say, turning to him. “I don’t have the time or the energy to take care of what is essentially a third child. The dog stays w
