I'm five years old and I'm a hacker.
My mom was the queen of business, and my dad—he was a moron.
That day I hacked into the Fu Group's intranet and replaced all computer desktops with photos of my grimace.
A man rushed to the kindergarten and blocked me. He said with red eyes, "I am your father."
I took out the paternity test certificate: "PS. Uncle, your methods of chasing girls are too old."
He was anxious: "Then where is your mother?"
I pointed upstairs: "It's a blind date in the revolving restaurant. If you don't go, it will be too late."
Later I learned that this man made my mother kneel in a rainstorm five years ago, almost killing our mother and son.
Now he wants to get my mother back?
I made a list for him: "100 Tests for a Good Dad"
Number one: Memorize all my mom's sizes.
Article 2: Learn to make scrambled eggs with tomatoes that are not mushy.
Article 3: Kneel on the durian, starting from one hour.
He asked me: "Have you passed the exam?"
I smiled: "Congratulations, you have obtained the qualification to be a father to this young master."
