The Accusations That I Am Three Toddlers in a Trench Coat Are False

I can’t believe we… I mean I, need to say this, but I am TOTALLY NOT three toddlers stacked on top of each other inside a long coat. I am one regular-sized adult man who does normal adult things like business and taxes and sitting still in chairs for many hours. What does it say about society that these scurrilous accusations are thrown at us, I mean me?

Just to show you that I am absolutely not three toddlers who found themselves in a farcical series of circumstances requiring a split-second decision to hide in a trench coat and pretend to be a person, I will walk you through my typical grown-up day.

My day looks just like any other grown, 40-year-old, singular man. I wake up at 5:00 AM sharp and eat my coffee and eggs just like all of you. I brush all of my adult teeth using my adult toothbrush that isn’t even themed after a superhero. The only reason it plays “Wheels on the Bus” for exactly two minutes is to help me think through all of my work business while I am brushing.

Then I put on my work costume, which is a standard work outfit uniform: a trench coat with a tie over it, a fedora, and oversized sunglasses.

I travel to my job in my car that I drive—these gas prices am I right? I could buy ten packs of Pokemon Cards, I mean cigarettes, for what they charge! Anyway, enough of my adult small talk. I have a typical car: it’s a Ford Dodge Mercedes and is operated using a series of levers and pulleys that we, I, fashioned out of Legos and Elmer’s glue.

At my work job, I do spreadsheets and make sure all the money is moneying properly—pretty standard stuff. Sometimes I do business phone calls and even talk in front of other adults and point at charts. Sometimes the numbers go up but then sometimes they go down, am I right? I send a ton of emails because I am very important.

You don’t get to become VP of Sales Business if you are three toddlers named Jimmy, Todd, and Blake who found themselves in a series of comical events that necessitated them disguising themselves as an adult using a large trench coat. That would be crazy!

During lunch I go to the break room and sit at the grown-up table. I eat my tuna fish cereal and drink my whiskey while chatting with coworkers about what we did with our kids this weekend. You watched the Minecraft movie? I heard it was amazing!

When I return to work, I do an afternoon PowerPoint. My PowerPoint has pictures and transitions and one slide where a fire truck makes the siren noise.

I accidentally dropped the marker and it only took a few minutes to pick up. Those strange noises people heard while I was picking it up were, of course, my crackling body, which is failing because I am 40 years old. Then we have our daily budget meeting where I say important things like, “We need more dollars for the budget so we can buy the stuff.” That’s called strategy.

After work, I go to the beer store with my coworker adults. We all then kiss each other and talk about other coworkers we have strong feelings for in a positive or negative way. I think Bill in accounting is a big fat doody head. I like Chelsea, she smells like my mom. You know, standard grown-up stuff.

After my one or two or maybe ten beers I get in my car and drive home. I hit a ton of traffic on the way home; there must be a Wiggles concert or something.

When I get home, it’s bed time at 8:30 PM sharp, I heat up my milk, check under the bed for monsters, and watch violent shows with cursing before taking off my tie and trench coat and getting to bed.

Now if I were Jimmy, Todd, and Blake on a whimsical caper to figure out the mystery of Old Man Jenkins treasure while learning the true meaning of Christmas, how would I be able to know all of that? You sound crazy accusing me of being three toddlers in a trench coat.