Murder Plot

I believe that my daughter is trying to kill me. I am not talking about a gruesome shooting or stabbing death. Rather, hers is a slow, meticulously sinister plot. I believe her intention is to drive me to the brink of insanity, causing me to "snap" and thus take my own life. My death will in no way be linked to her....the perfect crime. Add to that the fact that I have life insurance substantial enough to allow her to live comfortably for quite some time, and I have come to the conclusion that my daughter is an evil genius.

Case in point:
1. This afternoon, Sophie sat on the toilet for 15 minutes screaming for me to come to the bathroom and hand her toilet paper. The roll of paper was literally three inches from her knee, but she didn't want to reach out to grab it herself. In true diva fashion, she wanted mommy to come hand it to her. I refused and eventually just shut the bathroom door so I did not have to listen to her scream. However, that only added fuel to her raging fire. That child has a scream that can melt eardrums!

2. As I sit here typing this, Sophie is laying in her bed yelling over and over again, "I'm not comfy! I'm not comfy!" I asked her," Sophie, what can mommy do to help you get comfortable." Her response..."Nothing. I'm not comfy!" She does not want to go to bed, and no amount of coddling will remedy that situation.

3. This long, agonizing day began with Sophie climbing into my bed at 2:00am and proceeding to elbow me in the back of my head for four hours. No matter how many times I moved her...scooted her...rolled her over, she always ended up right back against me with her elbow poking into the soft spot at the base of my skull. She has mastered a highly effective torture technique in the elbow poke.

4. Sophie's most effective means of afflicting anguish on me is through the use of food. A typical day goes like this: At about 3pm every day, Sophie begins telling me that she is hungry...despite having just had a snack at 2pm. She continues to whine about being hungry the remainder of the afternoon. When I offer her fruit or string cheese, she refuses, saying those things are "yucky." She will only be satisfied with candy or potato chips or some other food equally void of nutritional value. Finally, at about 5:00, I will tell her that I am beginning to cook dinner. Before I even mention what we are having for dinner, Sophie will immediately announce that dinner is "gross." It does not matter what we are having...we could be having chocolate cake for dinner....Sophie always declares that dinner is "gross." Typically, she will go on to eat her dinner, but she must first complain about the repugnant food that I prepared for her. She makes certain that I am fully aware that my cooking offends her sensibilities.

So...I think I have made my case. All evidence points to Sophie plotting to kill me. I am afraid that she may very well succeed one day. In the meantime, I will trudge along...trying to find a way to make myself invulnerable to her evil scheming. It's a struggle for survival...which one of us will make it to Sophie's eighteenth birthday? I am feeling fairly confident that it will not be both of us.