Everyday, several times a day, we hear those words. In the bathroom: I do all by myself. In the car: I do all by myself. At the table: I do all by myself. All of this would be fine if Nadia really could do it all by herself. We might as well invest in toilet tissue stock, because she uses a ribbon when a square or two would do. We wilt in the sun as she pulls herself into the car, and there’s often more food outside her tummy than inside. We put up with Miss I Do All By Myself because her protests are loud, the kind that make onlookers snap their necks and wonder what are those people doing to that poor child. I used to be one of those onlookers. Not anymore. When I hear a child screaming, I often think to myself: What is that child doing to those poor parents?