Last night, at bath time, T. was fussy. She's rarely fussy, even when she's at her most tired she tends to get punchy and silly, not fussy. But last night I bent over to shampoo her hair and she kicked her legs out in protest and caught me square in the face, soaking me with water.
I was a little mad. Well, really kind of mad.
Mama then became some kind of swooping alter-mama figure, all crazy-haired and glittery-eyed and angry.