Norma looks at her father and then at Charlie. "I don't have to. Mother said I don't have to play with him if I don't want to."
"Now, young lady"—Matt rises out of his chair and comes toward her —"you just apologize to your brother."
"I don't have to," she screeches, rushing behind her mother's chair. "He's like a baby."
"He can't play Monopoly or checkers or anything... he gets everything all mixed up. I won't play with him any more."
"Then go to your room!" "Can I have a dog now, Mama?"
Matt hits the table with his fist. "There'll be no dog in this house as long as you take this attitude, young lady."
"I promised her a dog if she did well in school—" "A brown one with white spots!" adds Norma.
Matt points to Charlie standing near the wall. "Did you forget you told your son he couldn't have one
because we didn't have the room, and no one to take care of it.
Remember? When he asked for a dog? Are you going back on what you said to him?"
"But I can take care of my own dog," insists Norma. "I'll feed him, and wash him, and take him out..."
Charlie, who has been standing near the table, playing with his large red button at the end of a string, suddenly speaks out.
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