Hi, I’m Frazzled Dad. You may know me as the star of Juicero’s CEO’s recent web treatise on the value that a glass of cold-pressed juice brings to the world. But I’m more than a flimsy rhetorical device with vague socially progressive overtones. Much more.

It’s true: I used to be one of those shmuck dads that chopped ingredients by hand every day and served my children a glass of messy, overcomplicated fresh juice before sending them off to their private coding schools and then collapsing in a heap of carrot peels and lemon rinds, my hair a veritable slaw of kale stalks. I mean, there’s only so much one man can do after waking up at 4:30am to meditate and ride my Peloton through a digital simulation of the Pyrenees. Lying there, I would stare wretchedly up at my homely Vitamix and pray, “If I could only do something good for myself.”

But when I learned about this juice machine that looks as if the sexy female robot from WALL-E had a three-way with a Swedish hand-dryer and a Japanese bidet, I knew I’d found the answer. Now, at the touch of a button, I have the glow of a much younger, more carotene-colored man. Sure, I’m still a very frazzled dad, and apparently that’s one of the few things a $400 juicer doesn’t fix, along with anything remotely related to the nation’s obesity challenges. But it’s an inspired kind of frazzled, because if I can pay more for juice at home than I would in a store, what else am I capable of?

So this week, during one of my first-rate frazzles when I saw the headlines about hacking and hand-squeezing, I had one overriding thought: “Where the hell is that permission slip I was supposed to sign for Junior?” Luckily, I found it, neatly stacked between the pillowy bags of fresh, cold, pre-pressed juices in the refrigerator. My wife, the busy professional who needs more greens in her life, started to roll her eyes at me, but then she ran out of time.

Of course, facing headlines about Juicero’s alleged superfluousness is never easy, especially during the week said headlines were actually published. But you know what makes it all a little less difficult? Closing my eyes and reciting a litany of health benefits only people with fresh, cold-pressed juices will receive in this life.

Let’s see, how else can I describe the value Juicero adds to a value-thirsty world?

1. It’s in how the harried business traveler’s face lights up as the rays of freshly-captured sunshine are excreted from the machine’s juicehole.

2. It’s in how the aspiring entrepreneur notices how closely the color of the kale juice resembles the color of dollar bills and how the metaphor is not lost.

These are just a few examples I could come up with in thirty seconds, because fuck the rule of three, I’m a frazzled dad. Honestly, sometimes I’m so frazzled, I just want to crush the crap out of something with my bare hands and then drink its life forces! Let me know if you have any suggestions. I look forward to reading them.