This afternoon Meg handed me her dry erase board and requested that I draw her a dinosaur.
"Why don't you draw a dinosaur?"
"I don't know how!"
That seemed like a pretty good reason, so I drew her a brontosaurus. Those are within my artistic abilities, but Meg wailed because it wasn't a Tyrannosaurus Rex.
"You didn't ask for a tyrannosaurus! You asked for a dinosaur, and I gave you a dinosaur!"
"But it's a brontosaurus!"
I explained that when you ask someone to do something for you, and you throw a fit about how they do it, they aren't going to want to do anything for you again. Meg didn't hear me; she was too overwhelmed by this parental betrayal, that I should have drawn her a brontosaurus and think it was a good enough dinosaur. In this life, there are tyrannosaurs and there are brontosauruses. Obviously.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
Technically, Brontosaurus no longer exists, as they have been reclassified due to earlier errors in skeleton reconstruction. Some scientists are also trying to get rid of Triceratops. Maybe scientists hate our childhood?
Post a Comment