Hey,
I call shenanigans.
A while back, my kids were huddled together, whispering and looking over their shoulders to see if I was paying attention. (Pro tip: if it looks like they are plotting, you’re right.) This went on for a while, and I was obviously curious as to what they were up to.
Pretty soon, one of them comes out with a paper and pen and says, “Here, Dad. Sign this.”
I’ve seen enough TV to know this was a bad idea. I refused - no need to consult with my attorney.
So they go back and re-work it, like little white collar criminals. They channeled every bit of boss-baby energy they had into this apparently “legally binding” document.
Let me write it out for you:
Dad must have a birthday brisket prepared, due by the 3rd of May. If you fail to do this, you will experience many punishments from your children.
I, Dad, have for sure forever agreed to this: I did not write this but for sure forever agreed.
I didn’t even know what brisket was when I was their age.
Shenanigans.
I’ll still make the brisket.
Hiram