Hmm... What Does This Mean?

I was having a bit of a lie in this morning. (Yes, sleeping till 8am is a lie in for me). Aside, Bruce just asked me to email "the salsa recipe" to him at work so he can give it to a guy named Jose! Wow, it must really be good stuff if a guy named Jose is asking for it. Is that racist? Sorry. And BTW, I can't take credit for the recipe, someone gave it to us. It does make wonderful salsa though. Anyway, the kids are having another snow day today. (We've had quite a few this year! And incidentally, Ross is one of the few weird kids that doesn't particularly like that. Bruce made the mistake of telling the kids that they have to make snow days up at the end of the year, so now Ross slightly rues each one. I vaguely knew about having to make them up, as a kid. But I never had enough foresight to care much.) Wow, am I side track lady today? Back to my original story. The kids are off of school, so I stayed up a bit late last night, and was making up for it this morning. Chloe (our dog) came in and woke me up, as she often does, whining to go outside. I usually don't mind this, she needs to go potty. We all know how uncomfortable it can be to have to go really bad. But this is what got me: I got up to let her out, and walked past Bruce, who was sitting on the couch watching TV! Why didn't that dumb dog ask him to let her out? No, she came in and woke me up. What does this say about our "pack" as Cesar Malone would say? Interestingly enough, I still went straight into the kitchen and put food into her bowl, after I let her outside. I'm such a push-over! I can remember many a morning (back when we had a cat) when I'd wake up to a dog whining at me to go out, a cat yowling at me to be fed, a baby doing the same, and three other children that needed to be gotten up to get ready for school. Am I not delegating enough? How will my children learn responsibility?