“Daddy, I want to smack you in the face.”  He wasn’t smiling.

“You want to what?”

“Smack you in the face.”  Still no smile.

“You do?”


“Then do it.  Go ahead and try it.  But I don’t think you really want to smack me in the face because that’s not a nice thing to do.”  I stooped down to look him in the eye as I said this, a weak attempt at playing upon his morality.


Then he smiled.  And I felt like an idiot.