My niece (let's call her) Laurie, at approximately four years of age, was an adorable little child with red ringlets and a dimpled grin. Her equally adorable sister (um) Shelly, was a year younger, and the family had two new dachshund puppies.
Things were a little hectic as my sister was wrangling with bath time. Both kids had been taken out of the tub and dried off, but then Shelly had a little "accident". One of the puppies running around the bathroom had also had an "accident" and it finally got to be a bit much for my sister. She was kneeling, tending to Shelly, and quietly began to cry. Laurie patted her on the back and said, ever so solicitously, "That's okay Momma, you're having a bad fuckin' day."