My father is driving me bananas. He lies around like a slug and doesn’t help with anything and barks orders right and left. Sophie is lucky; she doesn’t have any parents to bug her.
Uncle Stew said the only reason she’s on this trip is because Uncle Dock took pity on the orphan. That’s what Uncle Stew calls Sophie: the orphan. I want to slug him when he calls her that.
Sophie talks about my aunt and uncle as if they are her real parents, even though they are only her adopted parents and she’s only been with them three years. Brian says Sophie lives in a dream world, but I think it’s kind of neat that she does that. At least she isn’t sitting around moping about being an orphan.
Sometimes I wish I were an orphan, because my father is a big crab and my mother is afraid of him and always hiding in the corner looking pitiful.
But I guess I’m not supposed to write about stuff like that in this dog-log. I guess I’m supposed to write about the journey and all that.
We started it. The journey, I mean. Amazing. I thought we were going to be stuck on land forever, what with Brian coming up with new lists every day. That boy sure likes to make lists. So does his father. They’re a real list-making team.
Nothing is happening except that the boat is actually sailing and not leaking too much or tipping over. Yet.