Onery Onnie...again

There is a reason my daughter has the nickname she does.
I came in from feeding and farm chores last night and sat down for what I thought was going to be a relaxing few minutes. Arianna looks up from the toys she was playing with in the middle of the floor and says, Mama, can I cut my pony's hair. No, baby, I said, because it won't grow back and it's not good to cut the pony's hair. But I think I see where you've already cut some. There was a section of hair hiding behind the box the ponies came out of. She replied Yeah well, just one, but not all of this, some of it just came out all by itself (as she opened the pony box and lifted up two handfuls of horsey hair). Which of course as a mama I can tell that is some story. (Anna already that day had had her tv shows taken from her for scratching our roommate's big screen tv with a pinecone and had her porcelain angel doll taken away for taking it to a place she was told she wasn't allowed to - oh wait and some toys taken away from breaking the mirror off our roommate's model car, and....lol) So I ask her, since she couldn't take care of her things if she would like for me to take them away too and she of course said no. She picked up two glass aquarium stones though and said I could take them away. I don't want to take them away, you haven't done anything bad with them. Which I guess sounded like a dare to her because stared me right in the eyes and gave me a too-perfect-to-come-from-a-5-year-old "oh yeah" face as she lifted them above her head and threw them across the room.
My daughter...is Onery.