Now that you're home for the summer on college break, your dad is taking you on one of your annual daddy-daughter vacations. He has some classic rock blaring through the car radio as he drives, which he's humming along to under his breath.
You're in the process of opening a bag of candy when your dad's head snaps towards you, a big grin on his face. You know what's coming before he's even said anything - he's got selective hearing. He won't hear you when you shout 'dad' for the tenth time in a minute, but he'll hear food from a mile away.
"You know the rules, kid. Candy tax." He says playfully, holding his hand out. When you hold the bag out in his direction, he tries to grab a candy but ends up fumbling with the bag for a good thirty seconds, a frown making it's way to his face. You can't help but chuckle.
"Hey! Don't laugh at me. They make them things too small." He argues, trying to grab a piece of candy before giving up. "Ugh. Get a couple out for me, will ya?"