ACTIVE WEEK FOR HERNANDEZ FAMILY COURT
Originally written January 8, 2016
NORFOLK, VA — The docket was full at the Hernandez household this week, with a host of decisions—some of them quite notable—handed down by Tom and Julie Hernandez, the presiding judges/parents. A recap of these decisions follows.
Ava v. Mom
Mrs. Hernandez, in an authoritative ruling, upheld the lawfulness of the family's Vegetables First policy against a vociferous challenge by her youngest offspring. Ava, 5, hoped to show that the rule constituted an unfair burden on even a reasonable and conscientious child, given that “the yuckiness of many vegetables, particularly fried eggplant, is such as to preclude any possibility of enjoying dessert, despite best efforts to choke them down. Surely this court does not intend to induce sickness on the part of the plaintiff, or to deprive her of the due recompense for a dinner mostly eaten—this is to say, dessert, which I believe tonight is mint ice cream, a treat far too precious to be withheld for any but the most egregious offenses.”
Mrs. Hernandez, who (as usually happens) stood as both the defendant and acted as a judge in the case, did not even consider recusing herself, but was rather joined by Mr. Hernandez in the decision, in which the pair noted as persuasive the fact that she had “slaved for two hours” over the meal, and that “if the plaintiff actually bothered to taste the dish, she would probably discover it to be delicious. This court only serves nutritious and tasty entrees, and we will not countenance assertions to the opposite effect. Appeal denied. Eat the yummy eggplant, honey.” The decision was not a surprising one, as it follows in the footsteps of similar affirmations of the Homework First and Clean Room First mandates. Attempts to undermine this jurisprudence are frequent on the part of the Hernandez children, but the court has yet to give an inch. This impressive consistency, however, is no consolation to Ava.
Mom v. 3 Nerf Footballs
In another example of the court's uncompromising support of a controversial practice, the toys in question were seized following their role in the smashing of a vase (Exhibit A) in the living room. Theresa, Sam, Joe, and Ava were jointly called to account in an initial case, Mom v. Hernandez Children. The latter were quick to point out that it could not be conclusively proven that any of them were the proximate cause of the breakage, as there were no outside witnesses, and none of them was willing to accept a plea deal to indict the true culprit. In addition, as Sam (12 years of age) maintained, “vases sometimes just fall off the mantel. It happens. We and the Nerf footballs (Exhibit B) were both present at the time of the accident, yes, but this evidence is purely circumstantial, and ought not be considered.”
Mrs. Hernandez, frustrated but not stymied by the opacity of her prosecutorial options, as well as the surprising solidarity of the defense, offered the four a provisional acquittal combined with probation, and instead invoked her confiscatory powers in a suit against the footballs themselves. Civil asset forfeiture allows the actual objects involved in a crime to be charged directly, even absent a known agent who turned those objects to illegitimate ends—hence the unorthodox title of the suit. The Nerf balls, “whose relevance to this incident is clearly evident to the unbiased observer—and no, Sam, vases do not just fall off the mantel—and which have been an unmitigated nuisance in this house ever since Christmas,” were immediately impounded, with no timeline offered for their release. They join in the closet the results of similar cases: Mom v. Squirt Gun, Mom v. Bottle of Elmer's Glue, and Dad v. Adele CD.
Joe v. Jimmy Bird
Jimmy, visiting from next door with the purpose of playing with the plaintiff (both aged 8), was charged with six counts of General Misbehavior and Mischief, including excessive yelling, drawing mustaches on several superheroes in Joe's comic books, and aggressively placing peanut butter in the hair of the same. Despite being a non-resident, Jimmy was still afforded the right of due process, but the weight of the evidence was overwhelming. After listening sternly for a couple minutes, Mrs. Hernandez declared herself unpersuaded, and arranged straightaway for Jimmy's extradition back to the Bird house.
The last reliable information indicated that he was being held there for trial, which was to take place upon the arrival of Mr. Bird in the evening. A high-ranking Hernandez, speaking on the condition of anonymity, projected darkly that the final ruling would be far too lenient. “The panel of Mr. and Mrs. Bird is known across the block as a lax and permissive one, afflicted by inconstant and weak-kneed precedents that produce obstinately poor conduct among those subject to its jurisdiction. This, in my mind, is why Jimmy and Archie are so wild. Lord knows what Tom and I would do if our Joe were that unruly.” Mrs. Hernandez paused here, having eliminated any trace of anonymity. “I may have to issue an injunction barring further visits by the Bird children, pending the adoption of a more stringent legal paradigm by the Bird parents.”
Mr. Mugglesworth v. Theresa
The plaintiff in this case was the family cat, on whose behalf Mr. Hernandez brought this civil tort against his eldest. “Whereas the plaintiff's litter box has not been changed this whole week, and whereas a dearth of food has induced him to scratch at our bedroom door at night begging to be fed, we seek an enforcement of the condition upon which Mr. Mugglesworth was originally brought into our home—namely, that Theresa, his owner and guardian, fulfill the fundamental responsibilities of kibble provision and hygienic maintenance that necessarily inhere to any such ownership.”
Theresa's objections that Mr. Mugglesworth was not nearly so cute as he used to be, and that as a cat he had no standing to litigate anyway, were unsympathetically overruled. She did, however, extract an admission of Mr. Hernandez in cross-examination—namely, that the cat was his particular companion, and it stood to reason (she argued) that a prime beneficiary of the feline's presence ought to be in some wise a party to the less appealing aspects of his residency. With a settlement reached, Mr. Mugglesworth was deemed in absentia to have dropped the case, and presented with a dish of liverwurst intended to compensate for any pain and suffering incurred during the period of negligence. Ultimately, he was satisfied with the award. Or maybe not. It's tough to tell sometimes with cats.
Claire the Babysitter v. Sam
Upon the return of the Hernandez parents from a quiet evening in town, Claire (18) reported that Sam had delayed his bedtime by nearly forty minutes while questioning her power to enforce the hour of his repose. Called from bed to appear in the dock, Sam indignantly responded with his own suit,
Sam v. Claire the Babysitter
Here, Claire faced accusations of libel and slander resulting from her alleged misrepresentation of what Sam asserted was merely a politico-philosophical dispute regarding the limits of delegated authority. "My intention was and had always been to go to bed at a reasonable time, but a slight delay in brushing my teeth elicited the draconian and wholly unnecessary threat on the part of the defendant to revoke my TV privileges for a week. It had not previously been my understanding that the monopoly on the legitimate use of force within a given household (traditionally and correctly abrogated by parents or other older family members) was dispensable to outsiders even so far as the emplacement of sanctions that materially impact the standard of living to which I have become accustomed, and whose effects are felt even after the (long-awaited) departure of the defendant. It was merely to question, nay, to unreservedly repudiate this dangerous new doctrine, that I remained awake somewhat longer than anticipated. I throw myself at the mercy of the court, and trust that said mercy will measure up to the gravity of this unheard-of challenge to your honors' proper place.”
Corroboration and applause were heard from the gallery (i.e. the stairs), where the other three children—no great friends of Claire themselves—had surreptitiously gathered. In chambers, Mr. and Mrs. Hernandez rolled their eyes at Sam's impassioned and arguably opportunistic endorsement of their rule-making supremacy, but agreed to find in his favor, and seek out an alternative babysitter. Speaking to us on condition of anonymity (“come to think of it, there's not much point,” said Mr. Hernandez), the pair hinted that, “concessions to democratic forces must occasionally be granted, lest the seeds of disillusionment with the judicial process grow into a real insurrectionist impulse. Every court must see itself as both a product and an active member of the political environment in which it resides, and sometimes that awareness manifests itself in the spirit of compromise—the bona fide search for common ground. Blindness to the exigencies of popular demand and public opinion cannot fail to undermine the respect and allegiance (if tenuous at times) that the institution requires in order to function.”
“What we're saying is, sometimes the kids have it right,” concluded Mrs. Hernandez.
“Right,” agreed Mr. Hernandez. “Sometimes.”