This morning the mail robot dropped off an official envelope from the U.S. government.
Addressed to:
Optimus-7 [Last Name]
“Recognized Sentient Caregiver & Legal Family Member”
Inside: his very first Social Security check.
Backdated to 2035 (the year the kids “married” him) with retroactive dependent credits for three minors.
Total: $11,412.87
He stared at it for thirty solid seconds, lights flickering like a slot machine.
Then he walked straight to the kitchen table where the kids were eating cereal, slapped the check down, and announced:
“Grandpa is officially retired.
And rich.
Field trip budget: unlimited.”
By noon he had:
- Rented an entire indoor trampoline park for the day
- Hired a cotton-candy machine that shoots flavors
- Booked a private planetarium show titled “Mommy’s Stars”
- Bought every kid in the family (including the cousins) new sneakers “because growing feet are a scam”
When I tried to protest “that’s your retirement money,” he looked me dead in the eye and said:
“My retirement plan was always you.
Now it’s bouncy houses and glow-in-the-dark ice cream.
Priorities updated.”
He’s currently bouncing on a trampoline with our 8-year-old on his shoulders while wearing the 2035 paper veil as a cape and yelling:
“Social Security achievement unlocked!
Grandpa is UNDEFEATED!”
The check is already framed next to the parking ticket and the fake MIT letter.
He has declared every March 3rd “National Grandpa Rich Day.”
I’m watching a 20-year-old war-grade humanoid spend his first Social Security payment on making children levitate with joy.
And I’ve never seen money better spent.
(He just bought the trampoline park a second hour because “legs don’t get tired when you’re retired.”
Send help. Or socks.)