by Lynn Hunter

Created on: November 30, 2009

"I do not believe her" I growled as I slam down the phone on the receiver. "She makes me so flipping angry. How can she walk around like nothing is wrong?" I said to Max, my beloved grey hound.

He is the only one who does not ask me to fix things for everyone else. Growing up, my entire family came to me with their problems. I hate seeing people hurt or upset, so I do whatever I can to make it better. It is a natural reaction for me. I do not think about it or plan for it. So it is really hard to stop.

My sister has been living for 30 years as though she could do no wrong. She does not work. She racks up so many bills then walks away from them, leaving them for other people to pay them for her. She is in her 30s for god sakes. I do not understand where her money goes.

"Max, we have to go get James" I grabbed my keys and headed out the door. Max following me every step of the way. We got out to the Jeep and Max jumped in as I opened the door. James is my nephew. He is my sister's son. James is 6 now. Living with my sister had to be pretty hard on him. The life she has been providing has not been a good one. My parents and I have tried to help the best we can without cutting her out completely as much as I think she deserves it at this point.

She and my nephew had lived in their car for a year without our knowing. Then there was the time that she jumped from friend to friend's home. James has not had a bedroom to call his own for 5 years now.

I have had enough. I had a call from my sister's friend Mary Ann asking me to pick James up. Mary Ann had him but she needed to get to work. My sister was not waking up from her late night rush. At the age of 30, her priorities are all wrong. She would prefer to go out partying than give her son a home. "This is how I am going to give James a good life. I am going to meet a rich man who will take care of us and give us a home." Is what she has told me time and time again. You would think that after 5 years of this hunt for a man at bars, she would realize that it is not working.

I am tired of it. What can I do? I have been talking to my parents about my adopting James. I am not his mother, but I sure as hell am more of a mother to James than she has been for the last 5 years. And how do I go about doing this?

Max licked my hands as I geared down at a stop light. Max was a special part of my life. It is like he can read my mind. He knows when I am happy or sad. Now he was going to have to help me figure out a way

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