Devil Girl Needs Cash

My daughter is four years old and ruthless.

How do I know this? Because last night she told me she needed $50,000. Not a nickel .... not a dollar ...... $50,000. Her request for this pay-out was smooth; nothing but butter in her voice. All whiskey colored eyes and batting lashes. She might have even caressed my cheek --- Devil Girl. Trickster.

Just look at her. This girl ain't afraid to get her hands a little dirty. She handles her business, yo.

I was curious. Why would such a little palm require so much grease? My guess was the ice cream truck. You know, give him a big tip and he'd keep circling the block. Maybe slide her and her brother an extra Creamsicle. Hell, maybe just park his annoying ass right in front of our house for a couple of months.

Or maybe she was planning on getting the hell out of here. Get a swanky little spot of her own. She talks about her Life When She's Big all the time. And not the normal ramblings of a normal kid. This chick has plans.  Her words:

Four bedrooms

Pink and purple walls

Cinderella bed

A cat, no dog, one horse

Her job: Fixing houses and overthrowing Lex Luthor

She will eat eggs and cheese

She will not eat soup

Yes, her brother can live with her

No, her mother cannot

Maybe the money is actually for her sister. Maybe Big Sister had a little pow-wow with Little Sister in the dead of night. Told her to hit Mom up for the money 'cause Mom wouldn't give it to Big Sister who is almost 18 and might actually do something fun with it like end up in County Jail. But no, Devil Girl wouldn't fall for that old trick. Devil Girl is smart.

So, I just asked her straight out.  

"Harlowe, what do you need $50,000 for?"  

"Parents."

"Parents?"

"Yeah.  Different parents."  (Devil Girl smiles and bounces off my lap)

Two thoughts go through my mind. Either (1) my daughter is mixing it up with the local Goodfellas and is planning to have me whacked or (2) she's mixing it up with the Asian Underground and is planning on buying a pair of slightly used parents straight off the Black Market.

Either way, things aren't looking too good for me. And now I have to go because I'm pretty sure I hear the rustle of a tutu creeping up behind me.