After school on Thursday I tossed The Boy a hunk of cheese from the kitchen for a snack. At least, that’s what I’d intended to do. In hindsight, this was a poor judgment call. What I actually did was lob a cheesy grenade-like projectile of doom at him.

He missed. It hit him squarely in the forehead and he was down instantly.

In that moment I was transformed from Super Dad, Almighty Giver of Snacks, into a cheese-wielding merchant of death and misery. On special today: one blow to the head FREE with every Mini Babybel.