Psst! Hey dad! are you awake?
Good Lord, Charlie, it’s 0430! Go back to sleep! Mom will slap us both naked and hide our clothes if you get Mia and Max riled up!
I can’t go to sleep without a bed time story; tell that one about how you found the me in the crate, but leave out all the gooshy parts.
Charlie, that’s not how bedtime stories work; you know perfectly well that they are to to be told at night, not in the wee hours of the morning.
Well, dad, now that you brought up the fact that it is the morning, you know it IS now officially Charlie Bravo Day, and as such, I make the rules!
That’s all well and good, but how does that make a Friday any different than any other day? You always think that you make the rules!
You make an excellent point dad; now, you may proceed…
(Sigh) ok, here goes; there once was a guy who had a semi-normal life. Then he found an early Christmas present in the guise of goofy dog left gift wrapped on the side of the road, and she now rules the Casa del Whackos with an iron paw. She is a master of the guilt trip, causing him to forego many activities in which he would partake, as well as give up much food that he would enjoy, that she might have her way. His is now a remora-like existence, surviving on the scraps that she deigns to bless him with as she cruises the dark depths in search of the meaning of life, and if not that, the softest place in the Casa in which to sleep. At this rate, he will eventually cease to exist altogether and they will be forever as one as he is gradually assimilated into her vast black bulk.
What now, Charles?
I love a happy ending.