On the day my daughter was born, I knew that nothing but the best would do for her. I decided that I'd give her the same love and support that God has given us, his human children, during our lifetimes.
So I built a special room for her with a one-way mirror and an intercom system. I filled it with the things she would need - furniture, toys, and special TV monitors on which I could show her lots of educational and inspirational programming. Then I sealed her inside her room.
My wife objected to this, but as we all know, it was Eve who caused the downfall in the Garden of Eden. Women's opinions can't be trusted.
The first few years were pretty easy. I had rigged up arm-length gloves through the wall, like you see in premature baby incubators, and I used them to feed and change her. I never let her see me, but I was always right there. I'd stand behind the one-way mirror for hours and watch her cry and fidget and fuss. Sometimes she would smile.
I got every early-childhood educational tape I could find and showed them constantly on the monitors. She learned to walk and talk in only a few years just by watching the monitors. She learned from prerecorded messages how much I loved and cared for her; that she was my pride and joy; and that she needed only to ask me for anything she wanted. She learned to use the intercom system to talk to me about her desires, her fears, her thoughts on life, and her questions. Of course I never answered her, but sometimes I would sneak into the room while she was asleep and give her something nice. She always used the intercom to thank me later.
When she was about ten years old, I sneaked into her room while she was sleeping and took away all her toys and furniture (I had a reason for this, but it's very complex). She cried for a whole week. She must have asked "why?" (over the intercom) about a hundred times, but of course I never answered. She was only ten years old, and there's no way she could understand the reasons behind my decision, so why bother explaining?
Well, today is her eighteenth birthday. This is the day I had promised her she could finally leave her room, enter the rest of the house, and talk to me face to face. Problem is, she gradually stopped using the intercom after she turned 15, and now she's stopped believing that I exist at all! So even though she had followed all my rules having to do with moral conduct, I threw her out the front door of the house and locked it behind her, banishing her forever. What's the point of her being a good person when it's not specifically for my benefit?
As I sit here writing this, I can hear her pounding on my front door and begging for forgiveness. But ... rules are rules.
I sure hope her little brother turns out better.