The Tools Make The Child

My day? You want to know how my day was, mom?

Well, listen, lady, I’d love to answer you, but I can’t. Because it’s not over yet.

Ever since I got this Stanley Jr. tool set, the work just never ends. I get up, I go to kindergarten, I learn my letters, I learn my numbers, I read, I draw, I eat a snack, I play tag, and then I get home, and it’s nothing but light contracting.

Why, just yesterday, you know what happened? Sis’s Barbies needed me to do some drilling in order to repair the roof of their dream house. Apparently, rain’s coming in. I tried to tell them that’s what they get for waiving inspection, but they pleaded. So what do I do? The right thing. I’m a good guy, after all. I always get my participation points. So I drill the roof, and they’re all thankful until I send the invoice.

“But we’re family,” they say.

“Yeah,” I say back, “and the number there? That’s the family discount.”

“We don’t have it,” they say.

As if they take me for an idiot. As if I don’t know about the rental income they’re pulling from the family of Trolls living in the garage. As if I don’t see the three convertibles parked in the driveway.

No good deed goes unpunished, huh?

And don’t get me started on big brother’s Batman. Guy’s a dang billionaire yet apparently needs me to do some work on his Bat Mobile gratis. But hey, he’s a “hero,” right? God forbid he open his wallet once in a while. Hey, Bruce, you want to help the city of Gotham? Well, we’ve got this thing called taxes. Maybe pay them once in a while, between fist fights with clown men and romantically tense conversations with crazy cat ladies.

But I digress.

Anyway, I granted this one favor and helped him fix his fancy little car. Gave it the hammer. Gave it the saw. And you know what he said to me?

“Watch the paint job, please.”

This friggin’ guy! I picked him up with the pliers and held him through the railing at the top of the stairs. That shut him up, I’ll tell you that much.

Am I proud? No. But I can’t afford to get walked on like that. I got a business to run.

Which is why, unfortunately, I actually won’t help clear the table and do dishes. You see, I need to belt up and wrench a few things for Teddy. But I swear, if that bear tries to barter hugs for services rendered again this time, I am gonna lose it.