I will not kill Layla

I will not kill you.
I must not kill you.
I really wanna kill you.
I shouldn't kill you.
I would get in too much trouble if I killed you.

But you have GOT to stop talking in that constipated half whisper whine that you do when you're back in your room for bed and try to get my attention.  It irritates me like little else.

And then you make up for it by being all cute when you finally behave and get the hand stamp you've been promised.  As soon as she gets it, she holds her hands up to her little aquarium light as close as she can get it, to see which stamp she got.

There will come a time when I long for the days that she can be bought with a simple hand stamp.  I know this.  And yet the whole process irks me until we get to the cute part.