A long time ago there lived a very pretty little girl. Her father was (and is) her hero and he in turn adored her. This little girl, did I mention she was very pretty, had a secret weapon. A weapon her father found (almost) impossible to overcome. She only used it on very important occasions, or maybe more. The effectiveness of this secret weapon can still be felt today.
Many years later this very pretty little girl became a mom. One day she was looking after her son and scolded him for doing something naughty. She then realized the power of her own secret weapon. Her son looked up at his mother with his big brown eyes, a tiny tear perched on the edge of his cheek, slowly his chin dimpled and his bottom lip slid out. "I'm doomed!", she thought. You see, this look WAS her secret weapon. The secret weapon that could not be faught, the secret weapon that brought her what she wanted when she wanted, the secret weapon that she still occasionally used.
She now has to take up arms and fight against the very thing she coveted most. And boy, does her Dad think its funny!