I can’t remember what began the argument but it seemed to last all day.

Maybe it was that I poured milk on her Shreddies and she claimed to have specifically ordered, “DRY SHREDDIES Alice!”

Maybe it was that I didn’t let her answer the door when a neighbour knocked to discuss Turtle Patrol fundraising.

Maybe it was that I wanted her to wear sandals that fit rather than crocs that do not.

Maybe it was when I tried to comb the fist sized knot from her hair while she ran in the opposite direction shouting something about soggy Shreddies.

Things finally came to a head after dinner, after the after dinner swim, after playing, after eating, after playing some more, after walking to the mailbox while Chloe sported yellow goggles and carried two containers of branded mints under each arm Greg had found in his office.

While neighbours smiled and waved at what appeared to be two crazies (I was balancing her trike on my head) on a five minute pass to walk to the mailbox unassisted by our caregivers, I said nothing.

Something snapped in Chloe when we made our way to the upper deck after our swim and she wanted to play with her Sesame Street book with the felt characters.

I wanted to bring her inside and warm her up with a bubble bath and she would have none of it.

She became delirious and I couldn’t figure out what had set her off. I don’t think it was my suggestion that Bert’s placement so far from Ernie might make him miss his friend but you just never know.

I found it difficult to keep up with her tantrum but I do know I laughed that in the same breath as “sudsy warm tub-tub” came the words, “Oh no you di-int!” with a now classic finger wave in my face.

She was wearing a little swimmer diaper, still with the goggles, had lost the mints somewhere along the way (and maybe also her marbles) and would have been swearing like a sailor had she known anything nastier than “You’re a Jer!”

The silver lining? She’ll soon crash and when that happens, there will be a bed of dry Shreddies waiting for her.