It’s Not a Conspiracy Theory When You Have Proof

Take me to your leader!

People are always crying conspiracy when they don’t know what really happened, and/or when they want to believe something bad enough. There was no moon landing, global warming is a fraud, barcodes are intended to control people, lizard-people run the world, Paul is dead.  Most are laughable (until you find out that lizard-people actually are running the world, and then you feel like an idiot).

The “proof” behind most conspiracy theories is comprised of pseudo-science, crazy random connections, lies and a witch’s brew made up of iguana droppings. That is why what I’m about to unveil cannot be construed as a theory, for I have real live evidence of a real live conspiracy right here in my real live house.

Within weeks of the birth of my kids I had microchips installed in their larynxes, waiting for the day when what I had suspected all along would be finally—incontrovertibly—revealed:  My kids are out to get me!

Here is a snippet of the taped conversation I have of them at age two and a half:

Son: That’s my toy penguin!

Daughter: Okay, you can have it. Sorry to be so mean to you.

Son: Why are you talking so nice to me? I’m supposed to be the one being nice these days. It’s not your turn yet. That starts tomorrow, remember?

Daughter: Oh yeah, that’s right. I’m still learning my days of the week.

Son: Well, you better get with the program. If we’re both agreeable and cooperative for any length of time, they’re gonna suspect something’s up.

Daughter: You’re right. Well, now that you’re finally sleeping in, I’m gonna start getting up early.

Son: That’s a real good idea.

Daughter: I’ve only gotten up before 7:00 am like three times in my life, but if you’re not gonna do it anymore, I guess I’ll take one for the team.

Son: Thank you!

Daughter: You’re welcome. I’ll start tomorrow.

Son: Hey, you know how I’ve been potty training pretty good?

Daughter: Yeah?

Son: Well, I really appreciate how you’ve been a real pain in the ass about it with the refusing to even sit on the potty and all, and throwing those massive tantrums and pissing all over the rug and in your underwear and on the chair and everywhere.

Daughter: Do you think I’m overdoing it?

Son: No, not at all. But pretty soon, once they get it in their mind that I’m all trained and good to go, they’re gonna go after you hardcore.

Daughter: I know. I can see it coming.

Son: So you just suddenly do it for a few days, and once you establish that you can do it pretty well, I’m gonna start dropping deuces in the toy bin and the vegetable drawer and stuff.

Daughter: You are? That is awesome!

Son: Thanks. They won’t know what hit ‘em!

Daughter: I think you’re right. Hey, I’ve noticed you’ve been eating like all your food for every meal lately.

Son: Yeah, I’ve been pretty hungry.

Daughter: Well, when do you think it’s my turn to start eating, cuz I’m starting to get sick of saying I’m not hungry and that I don’t like everything they put in front of me, and throwing tantrums about it, swiping it away, and eating nothing but crackers and cookies and stuff.

Son: You’re so good at it though.

Daughter: Thanks, but can we switch soon? All those fruits and veggies aren’t that good for you anyway.

Son: Yeah, I guess that’s fair. Wanna switch tomorrow at lunch?

Daughter: Deal! Hey, here they come.

Son: Okay, quick, whose turn was it again to be nasty?

Daughter: Mine.

Son: Okay, good. Hi, Mommy! Hi, Daddy! I love you, Mommy. I love you, Daddy!

Daughter: No like Mommy and Daddy! No like toys! I want mine milk! No wanna go on potty! WAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!

I'm not dead yet!

Have those “Paul is dead” folks produce a corpse for me, and then maybe I’ll start believing conspiracy theories. Until then, I’m thankful for my scientific proof that makes me just a little bit more believable.

*author’s note: All recordings are considered top secret documents and cannot be released to the public. We trust that you will believe us when we say they exist.

Image: bellatrix6/Flickr