On the last day of our vacation, I made hamburgers for lunch for myself and Olivia. Ever the curious one, Olivia bounced into the kitchen to take a look at what I was doing...

Olivia, in a schoolmarm voice spoiled only by her pixie tone: "Daddy, do you know who Billy Mays is?"

Me, somewhat bemused: "Well, actually, yes... do you?"

Olivia: "Yes. He sells a burger masher that'd be perfect for those hamburgers. No more squishing!"

Me: "But Olivia, I like squishing burgers. They taste better than any--"

Olivia: "Nuh-uh! Billy Mays says his burgers are much better!"

Me: "That's fine, but you're eating squished daddy burgers. Now go back to the den!"

Olivia: "Fine! When mommy gets home I'll talk to her and we'll buy the Billy Mays burger smasher for you for Christmas."

Me: "Christmas was three days ago..."

But by then she'd bounced back into the den to watch more cartoons.

Yeah, yeah, I know. But I was exposed to just as many commercials when I was a kid, and look how I turned out!

Oh shaddup, you.