Is there an echo in here?

We have an echo in our house whose name is Annie and she is trying to send me to the looney bin.  If it wasn't for the fact that I do not have any clean underwear, I would seriously consider packing my bags tonight.  I have thoroughly looked over the hospital discharge records from her birth and there was no mention of a Repeat Button located anywhere on her body, however I am quite certain she has one.  There is not 1 request made by me that is not repeated verbatim with a little sassy twist added for special effect.  Me - "Annie, please go brush your teeth, put on your nightgown and get ready for bed".  [Hip out, head cocked, shoulder dipped, eyebrow arched] "Go brush my teeth, put on my nightgown and get ready for bed?"  "Right now?"  (It always ends with a "right now?")  Me - "Annie please grab your bookbag, put on your coat and let's go because we are running late".  [sassy stance]  Annie - "Grab my bookbag, put on my coat and let's go because we are running late?"  "Right now?"   For the love of God, Jesus, Buddha, Gandhi, the old man down the street and John Lennon, why can't the child just freaking go and do what I say in silence?!  Mr. Roger's Neighborhood; it drives me up the wall.

Oh boy does she have her father snowed; just wrapped around her little Repeat Button like a ribbon on a present.  I would not be surprised if one day my husband just drops me off at the front of Walmart to go "park" and never comes back, and I couldn't really blame him.  Can you imagine the scene playing out on a regular basis with Trey walking in the front door while I am running around in a fever pitch, screeching about how no one will just DO WHAT I ASK THE FIRST TIME, with wild eyes and my hair standing on end?  In all fairness to me, he never fails to just miss another marathon of "I know you are but what am I" or "Annie would you please", that would drive a hibernating bear from his cave and totally justifies my latest freak-out. 

Good ol' Annie Girl never sets her Repeat Button in overdrive for her Daddy.  Nope.  She is a smart little cookie and I am sure there are a multitude of interesting repeats in our future,  just as long as I can stay on this side of the Padded Room.  Annie and I look like something straight out of a made for TV movie, with her calmly walking behind me, devilishly repeating every request I make while I am ransacking the medicine cabinet for those last few Xanax left over from my wedding 12 years ago.  Classic.

Maybe they'll get Eva Mendes to play my me.