“Aww, boss, you do care about me!” I raised an eyebrow at them. “Of course? Who else is going to clean this place? Bela doesn’t have hands, and I’m certainly not going to do it.” Putting a dramatic hand to their chest, the Kid squawked. “What? So you’re only using me for your chores? That’s child labor, I’ll have you know! And to abuse the love of your literal child. I’m hurt, truly. I hope you know that.” “You’re not even figuratively my child,” I replied.
