I had one of those father-daughter moments today.
We've had a couple before now, men and the evil S word, and they went off relatively well, but today was the most important - the one which would see her comfortably through life both single and hopefully one day, married.
It started relatively well but quickly degenerated into her storming off with the usual door slamming hysteria before ramming earplugs deeply into her heard and screeching that I hated her and clearly wished she were dead.
Apparently the act of switching off lights when leaving a room, and horrors, the mechanics of actually replacing a used toilet roll were all too traumatic, and I was an uncaring monster for even broaching the subject in the first place.
After that the thought of introducing the sticky subject of replacing wet bath towels sort of paled so I sought other, less dangerous occupations like chasing off the dog fox who was about to eat our new kitten bravely scouting the back garden for prey.