The Secret Agents

Me: “We need to leave in an hour.”
Troy: “Where are we going?”
Me: “Mama and I, not you.”
Troy: “What!? You’re leaving me!?”
Me: “Yes, we have to go out.”
Troy: “Why can’t I go too?”
Me: “Look, Troy. I’ve been avoiding telling you, but I guess now you’re old enough to know the truth. Mama and I are secret agents. We’re spies for a covert organization. Sometimes, we get called away on missions. Usually it’s only one of us at a time, but tonight we both have to go.”
Troy: “Dada! Where are you really going?”
Me: “I just told you. We have a mission. Didn’t you ever wonder why Dada is so good at wrestling, boxing, martial arts, fencing, archery, and shooting? I mean I can hit you with a dart dead on while you’re flying through the air! Didn’t you ever wonder why I have such a vast and varied knowledge about so many random things? I need it all to do my job effectively.”
Troy: “I thought you worked with computers.”
Me: “That’s my cover, just like your mother pretends to be a professor. In reality, she’s a chemical weapons specialist.”
Troy: “Mama, is that true?”
My Wife: “Well…”
Me: “Of course it’s true. Why would we make something like that up?! What kind of imagination would I have to have to come up with that story?!”
Troy: “I still don’t believe you.”
Me: “That’s your prerogative. I need to go get my gun. I’ll be right back.”
Troy: “Dada!”