Need to know basis

My nine-year-old has been pushing some serious limits. I can handle that sh*t at the house, but now her attitude is spilling out into the school realm. Of course, the sneaky little sh*t won't ever tell me when she's been sent to the office for screaming at the recess para. Nope, I ask how her day went and she just smiles and says, "Oh it was great, Ma. We had art today. I love making papier mache puppets."
Smooth as glass, this one, slick as a turd on linoleum. She may be able to fool the others (especially my mother who thinks that the reason my little angel is sassing teachers is because she's bored at school. Give me a f*cking break, Mom) but I've got her number and told her so today.
"Principal called me today, Anna. Anything you want to say, girl?"
"Um, well, whatever I say you're just going to be made at me, even if I tell you the truth. So what's the point?" Huff, huff, huff

"You're goddamn right I'm gonna be mad at you, I just need to know how bad your punishment is going to be, just figured I'd give you a chance to explain yourself before I sell your iPod on ebay."
"You can't do that, it was a gift from Pa."

That's when the beans spill, all over the damn place. Yes, she sassed, yes she's been to the office more than once, yes, she's been swearing at the boys on the playground. Geez, any of this sound remotely familiar?
Maybe her name should be Nichole.
She must get it from my mother. The other day we were in the car about to pull out of the Cobble. Mom was bitching about how her doctor doesn't listen to her and doesn't believe that she has chronic Lyme.
"I told her that my massage therapist sees a lot of these same symptoms in her other clients," Mom said. "Course I didn't tell her that her other clients are usually horses."
I wish I had a picture of the look on my face when she said this. Horses, eh? Are we any different? Eh, who knows.