The Contest

I was sitting in my office typing when my daughter walked in.

"Hey dad, what are you doing?"

"I'm writing a short story."

Her eyes narrowed. "Daily contest?"

"Yep," I replied.

"Three hundred words or less?"

I nodded my head, "Yeah."

"Why do you bother, you're never going to win that," she said.

"You never know, I might win," I said, feeling somewhat miffed that my daughter had so little faith in me.

"Trust me dad, I'm right about this. You're never going to win that thing. Even if you're the only person who enters, you'll still find a way to lose."

"Really?" I said indignantly. "We'll just see about that, won't we."

"Yes we will," she said, as she shook her head and left my office.

The next morning I was eating breakfast when she came down stairs and entered the kitchen.

"Well?" she asked.

"Well what?" I said.

"You know what I mean."

"I have no idea."

She put her hands on her hips and said, "Did you win the contest?"

Turning a little red, I looked down at my oatmeal and slightly shook my head.

"See, I told you I was right."