You walk in the door from school. Your nine-year-old comes in after you.
Everything seems fine. She’s happy. All is well and good.
Then, you remind her that the dishwasher needs unloading.
Boom. It’s like something inside her detonates.
“Noooo… I don’t have time to do that. That’s so unfair. I can’t believe you’re making me do this!:
She glares at you, stomps over to the kitchen sink and starts crying.
WHA-ATT just happened? She was happy. I didn’t blame her. I just had a simple request.