Not now

Last night I came home from seeing mother, feeling depressed and with the inevitable ponderings on mortality swimming in my head. As I sat at the dining room table with a cold brew, the nine year old crept into sight, carrying a toy double headed axe and wearing a black hooded cape and a skull mask complete with a hidden pump that spurts red goo out the mouth. And she trod heavily about the room with hunched shoulders, moaning and gesturing at me with the axe. I asked her to go away a few times, but she was all wrapped up in her act and continued to menace me until I yelled for Hubby's assistance: "HONEY! Could you please tell Raoul to stop Grim Reapering me?"