There’s this trick that Mom uses on Dad. She’ll ask him if he wants to go to Bass Pro Shops so he’ll hop in the car like a dog going to the park… only to end up at Bed, Bath & Beyond or even worse – some arts and crafts festival. Funny thing is, there isn’t even a Bass Pro Shops in Vermont.

So yesterday when Dad said “Hey Liam, let’s go to a cold, fluorescently-lit room and have three giant needles jammed in both your thighs by two strange women!” I thought that surely I would be in for the exact opposite.

I was wrong. And my chunky little haunches are so sore today that I can’t even stand up.

OK, so I couldn’t stand up before, but still.