You know what I'm going to miss as my kids get older?
The "I'll do it for a cookie" stage.
These children will do darn near anything if I promise them a cookie. They don't want to finish their dinners? Dangle the cookie-offer in front of 'em, and BOOM! Clean plate. They don't wanna clean up the kitchen? "As soon as you're done, you can have a cookie!" ZOOM! They're cleaning machines.
So I was thinking...what if that stage never ended? I mean, what if I (the hypothetical me, of course, given that I'm far too upstanding a parent to manipulate my own children in such a way. *snort*) could somehow mutate their brain chemistry so that they were always slaves to the lure of the cookie?
And, heck, if I could do that to my own kids, what's stopping me from creating, I don't know, some sort of giant hypno-ray that would overpower the brain waves of any subset of human beings - twenty-year-olds, or cat owners, or fans of non-Sammy-Hagar-Van Halen - and make them, too, totally subservient to the Grand CookieMaster Overlord Overlady Person?
Because think of how great that would be! Picture me perched atop my Colossal Throne of Cookietude, clad in a gown woven from linen napkins, an ornate goblet of milk (chilled, of course) near my hand, with my devoted army of cookie-minions ever at the ready to do my bidding! The glory! The power! The crumbs!
Err. Not so much that last one, then....
But anyway! I could say, "Minions! I command you to entertain me with a semaphore version of Wuthering Heights!"
And they would respond, "As if," as they rolled their collective eyeballs at me.
So I would say, "Do it, and I shall give you a cookie!"
And they would respond, well, silently, as that's kind of the point of semaphore. But you get the idea! I could bid them to do anything! Anything, I tell you!! *insane laughter*
Of course, this means I would have to share my cookies...
...hm. I'm beginning to see why this idea has never taken off.
This extremely bizarre entry brought to you by my cookie-induced sugar high, my securing of a sitter for tonight, and the seven o'clock showing of "Goblet of Fire." Wheee!!
The "I'll do it for a cookie" stage.
These children will do darn near anything if I promise them a cookie. They don't want to finish their dinners? Dangle the cookie-offer in front of 'em, and BOOM! Clean plate. They don't wanna clean up the kitchen? "As soon as you're done, you can have a cookie!" ZOOM! They're cleaning machines.
So I was thinking...what if that stage never ended? I mean, what if I (the hypothetical me, of course, given that I'm far too upstanding a parent to manipulate my own children in such a way. *snort*) could somehow mutate their brain chemistry so that they were always slaves to the lure of the cookie?
And, heck, if I could do that to my own kids, what's stopping me from creating, I don't know, some sort of giant hypno-ray that would overpower the brain waves of any subset of human beings - twenty-year-olds, or cat owners, or fans of non-Sammy-Hagar-Van Halen - and make them, too, totally subservient to the Grand Cookie
Because think of how great that would be! Picture me perched atop my Colossal Throne of Cookietude, clad in a gown woven from linen napkins, an ornate goblet of milk (chilled, of course) near my hand, with my devoted army of cookie-minions ever at the ready to do my bidding! The glory! The power! The crumbs!
Err. Not so much that last one, then....
But anyway! I could say, "Minions! I command you to entertain me with a semaphore version of Wuthering Heights!"
And they would respond, "As if," as they rolled their collective eyeballs at me.
So I would say, "Do it, and I shall give you a cookie!"
And they would respond, well, silently, as that's kind of the point of semaphore. But you get the idea! I could bid them to do anything! Anything, I tell you!! *insane laughter*
Of course, this means I would have to share my cookies...
...hm. I'm beginning to see why this idea has never taken off.
This extremely bizarre entry brought to you by my cookie-induced sugar high, my securing of a sitter for tonight, and the seven o'clock showing of "Goblet of Fire." Wheee!!