Today we were at Target, and Daniel wanted to ride on the rack below the cart's basket. I had let him do it before, but since the time his foot got caught I've not permitted him to partake of this (apparently) extremely pleasurable pastime.
After turning him down for the thirteen thousandth time today, Daniel whined, "I should get to do what I WANT!"
"Absolutely," I agreed. "As soon as you're eighteen and paying your own bills."
"But when I'm eighteen I won't want to do it anymore!"
Well, one can hope.
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