Sick = Ugly, Unloved Baby

Apparently this what what Sophie thinks, at least.

She is slumped on the couch, her temperature between 103 and 104. Her eyes are partially closed and she is under a blanket. Lest I wonder if she is asleep, I simply have to utter these words: "Shh... Sophie is sick."

She rouses up, her piercing eyes reflecting anger and hurt, "I am NOT SICK. I am feelin' better." Then she resumes her previous posture.

The only thing I can think of that produces comparable venom is when I refer to her as a Baby.