I am beaten

Kids can smell the blood in the water. Some mornings you just can't mask your weakness, and they seize the day to REIGN over you. Today I fell out of bed, figuratively, dressed R2 and sent him away to the care of the state, and then tripped back up the stairs to catch a few more minutes of sleep, but I was met by this face. Does he look sleepy to you?

He was followed shortly by these faces. They start slowly, seeing if they can get away with minor crimes. I make breakfast, force people to use the bathroom, offer weak threats to every challenge. The rebellion builds as they notice I am falling asleep at the table. Greater misdeeds are carried out. I, typically some kind of Dobson-esque disciplinarian, become a more Walmart-esque disciplinarian, correcting rarely, harshly, and inconsistently. It becomes clear. I am weakened, wounded, and they will win.

The rebel force starts to lose power when they turn to civil wars, and they are separated, forced to scream at each other from separate bases. Reforms are made, promises spoken. There is a brief period of peace, and I relax my guard for a moment, only to be ambushed.

In my broken condition, only one remedy will buy me the time to regroup. The computer. I surrender, but little do they know that as they feast on Barney and Dora, I am growing strong. I will rise again, and when I do, people will take baths when I say.