A childhood belief about work

When I was little Dad worked all day, from eight till seven. When he was home, I didn’t leave his side. Unbeknown to him, I’d listen to his every word- Including all his swearing. One night, he was talking about his boss, Mr. Rickman. He claimed Mr. Rickman had a ‘stick up his arse.’ Dad often went on about people at work who had ‘stick’s up their arses.’ As an impressionable child, I took that literally, and I felt very sorry for all of these people.
A year later, on dad’s birthday, when I was five, Mum took me to his office to surprise him. We crept up to his office stall and Mum whipped out a present. A few of his colleagues started laughing and clapping. They crowded around the stall. I walked behind all of them and said as loudly and matter-of-factly as I could, “Dad, these people don’t have sticks up their arses.” Dad went bright red. He was about to strangle me so I ran off and hid in a bigger office. An older man greeted me and bent down to say hello and introduce himself. A crowd gathered outside the office, waiting to see the reaction. Everything was quiet and in my loud voice I said, “I feel sorry for you.” Mr. Rickman asked why and I responded, “Because that stick up your arse must hurt a lot.” Dad ended up quitting his job!