That's my name, don't wear it out

All my life, I've hated it when people say that. Ick. But today I completely understand, after hearing my name FORTY TIMES A MINUTE from little girls who have really high-pitched, whiny, demanding voices - "Dänika paint my nails," "Dänika come here," "Dänika play a game with me," "Dänika paint my nails," "Dänika come here," "Dänika come play a game with me," and I can hardly keep from screaming I FINALLY CAME TO TERMS WITH MY NAME A COUPLE OF YEARS AGO BUT NOW I'M NOT LIKING IT ANYMORE!!

Oh, the screaming and gnashing of teeth, the wailing and shrieking at such insane pitches that it melts the skin on our faces, so that we sit around the dinner table, looking like the evil Nazi on "Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark," dripping onto our grilled chicken. What's that new sauce? Oh, that's my forehead, my nephew screamed at me.

There's so much noise, so much movement, so much moving around all the time, running into people because even though this is such a huge house, they stay in clusters and I can't move without running into the six extra people and the four other people who live here.

I can't wait until they all go to sleep tonight, so I can stay up insanely late, even though I'm tired and am going to the crazy early service tomorrow - I'm staying up late to enjoy the silence, the sound of NOBODY saying my name.