Daddy’s Little Angel
“Dad…daddy…please, pretty please.”
The whining voice of my teenage spawn was getting on my nerves again. I’ve given her so many things because of my manipulation of the world but is it ever enough for her? No. Now today she wants me to give her Chris Hemsworth as a new plaything.
“Please! I’ve only asked for sixteen dozen things this week but nothing as important as Chris. I want to nibble on his neck, devour his mouth while I seize his hair, and run my tongue along his six-pack abs. I’ll be good. I won’t hurt him like I did my last toy. PLEASE!”
“I’m closing my ears. I don’t want to hear what you’re going to do with that man.” Shoving my headphones over my ears and blasting my IPOD, I try to avoid her pleading, knowing that I can’t withhold things from my daughter for too long. She has me wrapped around her finger just as her mother does. It’s too bad that last plaything didn’t last a week under the ministrations of my darling daughter. His soul was sold and he was begging to burn in Hell rather than face the loving of my little angel.