let’s get this straight; I’m expected to scratch your butt while sitting on the toilet (me, not you), take you on motorcycle rides while you rupture my eardrums, sacrifice any semblance of a full night’s sleep so that you can change your mind every 5 seconds concerning sleeping arrangements, lay there and take it for as long as you deem necessary when you decide to go into a licking fit?
Right so far, dad; and what’s your point?
And for this treatment, you don’t have to share your squeaky ball or your rawhide chew toy, and any food that I eat has to be shared with you, although you snarf yours down without giving it a second thought?
Accurate in your assessment of the situation, as always, dad; what’s yours is mine and what’s mine is mine.
And do you view this as a fair and amicable arrangement, Charles?
Well, dad, I DID change your life, didn’t I? And as long as I’m around, your face will never go un-exfoliated or under-moisturized, your spot on the bed will always be pre-warmed, and weight gain will not be an issue, as I employ my patented “Guilt Gaze” after any trip through the drive-thru. You’ll never lack for a riding partner or road trip co-conspirator, and excessive “WELCOME HOME!!” celebrations will be performed every time you return to the Casa, even if it’s only from an extended journey into the uncharted wasteland of the back yard. So yeah, pops, maybe you’re right; it DOES sound a little one-sided.
Sorry I brought it up; carry on.