The Night Before Last

Lying belly-down on the front room couch, spoken softly and sweetly, but as if she's dying, pleading with me, my lil' Pipsqueak tries the following:

Pipsqueak: "Momma?"

Me (upbeat): Yes, punky? Whassup?

Pipsqueak: "Mahhhmma?" -short pause to see if I'm looking at her, which I am- "Momma, I neeeed a pohhpsicle."

Me (still upbeat, smiling at her with a look of amusement): Ohhh really? you think you neeeed a popsicle?

Pipsqueak (still dying, still lying on the couch): "Oh yeeessss, Momma, I neeeed a popsicle right nooow -long pause- please?"

It should be noted that her 'please' was spoken in the most cheery tone imaginable, paired with the cutest flash of uber toothy grin she could produce... lil' stinker!