Her screams echoed off the bathroom tiles, only slightly muffled by the sound of running water. I ignored them and got on with the job. I had given her three warnings, two more than necessary, but she ignored them all. It was brutal, but in the end I had to act. Minutes later, my daughter's hair was clean again.
But the screaming did not stop. Her eyes were open, so I knew she hadn't got soap in her eyes. She ran out of the bathroom to her mother in hysterics, leaving me baffled. I could hear her speaking in broken, Russian syllables between sobs.
"IDIOT!" This time it was my wife. "WHAT SHAMPOO DID YOU USE?" I showed her. Without a word, she pointed to the picture of the dog and cat on the bottle.
Well, at least she doesn't have ticks.