There's just no denying that she's mine. You want proof?
This exchange proves it:
Me: Meagan, will you please come here?
Meagan: sighing . . . Yes, mom?
Me: Will you please go check the mail for me?
Meagan: sighing . . . I guess (slipping on my shoes) I just wish that was really a question that I could answer.
She then heads out the door.
She's mine all right.