Those were Lindsey's words when I made her stay in bed tonight. I had to fake-cough to cover up my laughter, because to her, this is a very serious matter. (She also threatened to bite me. And she has this vicious scowl that makes my blood run cold, at least until I tickle her.)
Stace tends to be a softie with this kind of thing, but I'm getting her more in a combat mindset. She has to realize that in Lindsey, we face an enemy so cunning, so devious, and so amoral that she will resort to the most underhanded tactics, including emotional blackmail. This is war. It's a war we're going to win (at least until Lindsey becomes a teenager, at which point we'll abandon all hope and immediately surrender without any expectation or hope of mercy).
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Well, Ron used to tell me I had no idea what it was like to have a daughter, so perhaps we'll find out through you. On a serious note, I think I'd try to deal with issues sooner rather than later when that seems relevant. It will definitely be interesting to see this girl as a teen.
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