I mentioned earlier that my father would force me and my siblings to do yard work every Saturday for hours when I was growing up. What I failed to mention is that my father would reward us by taking us to McDonald’s at the end of the day. It seemed like a great deal when I was eight. Of course, the irony is that my dad had to feed us anyway. “[Cough.] How about you do eight hours of yard work and in exchange I’ll feed you dinner?” Deal. Of course, we would have been fed dinner, but this was McDonald’s.
