I don't even remember how it started.
I had obviously said something the Bombshell didn't like, because I was shoving the kids into the car, screaming that we would be late. AGAIN. And she was howling at the top of her lungs how unfair it all was.
'I don't love you anymore,' she sobbed.
'Well, that's just ridiculous,' I said. 'Of course you still love me. You don't stop loving someone just because they say "no" to you.'
'I don't love you,' she repeated. 'And don't say that bad word to me.'
'What word?' I asked, wrestling with the seat belts. "No"?'
'Ri-diggy-luss. That's a bad word.'
'That's not a bad word,' I told her. 'There are lots of worse words. Like saying to someone that you don't love them anymore.'
'That's not a word, Mum,' she told me grandly. 'That's a sentence.'