He'd rather be with my husband. In fact, I rank at a firm number 4 in his family hierarchy. That's why when we interpret his thoughts (which are frighteningly self-evident) he refers to me as Woman. Momma is reserved for when he needs someone to rub his ears, which is something only I can do correctly. And it's gross. But I do it, partly because he is so handsome, and partly because his ears are so soft. Today he is stuck with me, my velvet-eared, snow-loving, reluctant writing companion, until I pick up numbers two and three from school. Poor doggie.