The other day I was standing in my bedroom, and went to take a step, only to find that I could not. My son, Jake, aged 4 1/2, was lying full length and prone on the floor with arms extended and both hands securely clamped around my left ankle. Andi looked on. This had happened before.
Jake ordered me to drag him along the floor: "Walk!", came the command from below.
"I refuse to walk anywhere while there's a manacle attached to my leg", I replied.
"That's not a manacle; that's a boy-acle!", said my beloved.