I've made the mistake of calling my youngest daughter Zoe a "Little Miss Grouchy Pants" in times of severe screaming and crabbiness. Emma and Ian have taken this to mean that they can call their baby sister this particular term of endearment. It didn't bother me at first, in fact it was kind of cute. It stopped being cute after Emma commandeered the phrase and began using it 22,000 times a day. After repeatedly asking her to stop calling her sister a "Little Miss Grouchy Pants" wasn't working, I began counting her and threatening a time out. It seemed to be working. But this morning the phrase reared its ugly head again. This is how the conversation went.
Emma - "Oh, you're a Little Miss Grouchy Pants today."
Me - "Emma, quit calling your sister that."
Emma - (in a teasing voice) "Little Miss Grouchy Pants!" (in a loud whiny voice now) "My shirt keeps falling down. Get. Me. My. Clothes."
Me - (to Emma) "You're being a Little Miss Grouchy Pants now."
Emma - (indignantly) "I'm not a Little Miss Grouchy Pants! I don't have pants!" (She was wearing a nightgown at the time.)