On Monday night, my younger son broke his leg. It was awful. He will be in a Spica cast for the next 6 weeks. My poor baby can't move, and has to be carried everywhere. Tuesday morning, my husband went home to get stuff ready and pick up my older son from my mom's house and drop him off with my brother. We didn't get home until late Tuesday afternoon. I reminded my husband that morning to make sure he fed the cat, since in the rush to get to the hospital, we hadn't fed her the night before. When he got to the hospital on Tuesday, I asked him if he had put her food, and he replied that he was rushing around and forgot. I was very upset, but there was not much I could do.
As soon as we got home Tuesday, I made sure my baby was settled and comfortable, then ran down stairs to make sure the cat had food and water. She had fresh food and water in her bowl. I went upstairs and asked my husband if he had fed her. He said he hadn't yet again, and I told him that our older son must have done it. I've been trying to teach him responsibility, and one of the chores he's been helping with is feeding the cat in the morning and at night. I thanked God for this small blessing, that he was able to remember and helped me out. As small as it may be, it was definitely a happy and proud moment for me. I love my kids.
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