Once upon a time a little red hen found a few grains of wheat and asked the yard who would help her plant them.
A foreman was walking past. He said that soon work would be optional, like playing sports or a video game. He said it on his way to somewhere else.
The cat said not I. The dog said not I. The duck said not I. They stayed to supervise, and the hen planted the wheat herself.
She cut it. She ground it. She baked it. The cat watched from the fence, the dog from the porch, the duck from the pond. Nobody helped, and everybody was there.
The bread came out of the oven smelling like a weekday, and they all arrived at once. "Look what we made," said the cat. "Great teamwork," said the dog. The duck asked for a photo.
The foreman, who owned the biggest granary in the county, said it proved his point: work is a choice. The hen had indeed chosen it. Nobody had offered her another one.
Optional is a lovely word for whoever is not holding the wheat.