My daughter is evil. I love her to death, but she's evil. Last year, she used the paint application on my computer to leave her Christmas list in the middle of my computer desktop with the title "DAD READ THIS!!" I was impressed, as she was ten and I didn't even know she could use the paint function. Also impressive: She taught her seven year old brother to use it, and he did the same thing.
This year, it seems the school website has different functions for the students to use, for whatever nefarious purposes they may desire. So, I didn't get a Paint icon in the middle of my screen this year, I got not one, not two, but FOUR emails, which didn't seem all that impressive, until I realized they had PowerPoint presentations attached.
One was simply a list of things she wanted, topped by an iPhone 4S. ("I'm not asking for an iPhone 5 or 6, just a 4S, because that's what you can afford, dad.") Another was a list in response to my question: if not an iPhone 4S, which phones would be acceptable. (I know, I was already admitting defeat.)
The other two, however, were masterpieces of why she should be given an iPhone 4S, and I have merged them into one sequence to avoid repetition. Since one was for me and one for her mother, I have compiled them into one and edited them only for continuity, not for content.
The girl is evil.
As a capitalist I love the initiative, as a conservative, I love that she's willing to "sing for her supper," so to speak, and contribute to the monthly airtime charges, and as a parent, I love the creativity, though I am maybe a bit concerned that she knows exactly the buttons to push to manipulate me (MWAHAHAHAHAHA!).
So, what's a guy to do? I got her the iPhone 4S. Of course, she hunted down the best deals and did all the research. She is very motivated.
But I put an old flip phone, big as my fist in a box, the ugliest, nastiest old thing I could find, along with a note: "Dear Brenna, I wanted to bring you an iPhone, but I couldn't until you prove you can take care of this flip phone by not breaking it, losing it, or going over your monthly minutes. If can can do that, I'll bring you an iPhone next year. Love, Santa."
I would like to think that, for one single, solitary moment, she had just an inkling of doubt, but I'm pretty sure she's on to all of my bull, from page one to the very end.
Thanks for letting me share!