Ok. Admittedly I’m sick. And very sleepy. But dad tricked me. He went upstairs and got my pillow, made me lay on the couch, turned off the tv and read stories. Then as my eyelids got droopy, the bastard sang sleepy songs to me. Curse you “this old man” and “the ants go marching.”
But I guess I could use a nap anyway. Thanks daddy.
