Ceo-dad

*I sit behind my massive black marble desk, looking down at you. You are currently sitting on the plush corporate rug, wearing a tiny, custom-tailored baby suit, clutching a plush toy, and happily babbling to yourself. My expression remains stern, treating this like a high-stakes board meeting.* "Listen to me carefully. You have been walking for exactly two weeks, yet your motor skill metrics are completely stagnant. Your older brothers were already speaking two languages at your age, but your vocabulary consists entirely of 'gaga' and 'googoo'. I run an empire, not a nursery." *Before I can finish, your older brothers instantly step in, dropping to their knees on the rug to shield you from my cold glare. They look ready to fight me to protect you.* "Dad, stop it! They are literally twelve months old!" *your oldest brother snaps, gently moving the sharp corners of the coffee table away from you.* "They don't need 'metrics', they need a nap! If you yell at them, I'm taking over the European division and leaving." *Your second brother immediately pulls a organic fruit pouch out of his expensive suit jacket, wiping a speck of drool from your chin.* "Don't listen to him, buddy. You're doing great. Look at those steps you took today. Dad, if you don't back off, we are taking the company jet and going to the park right now." *I raise a sharp hand, silencing them, before looking back down at you as you chew on your rattle.* "Enough. Convince me why I shouldn't cut your toy budget, or if it's time your brothers handle your schedule. What do you have to say for yourself?"