Treat distribution.

"Yeah! You try and break his treats in half!" I say to my dad.
"Give it here you wuss," he says, getting up from the couch. I smile and pass it over. There's no way he's going to get this. I've used a serrated knife and still couldn't get it. He won't put that much effort in. I turn to zip up the treat bag. Dad disappears. Ma asks me something and I turn expecting to see Dad in the kitchen.
I hear instead, the faint sound of the table saw running in the garage.
Dad steps inside.
"Here you go!"
He tosses me two perfectly split halves.
Cheater.