"Why are you so angry?" asked Jet, not at all scared, but a bit puzzled.
"I'm tired and I'm being cranky," I said, quite frankly. I thought a bit, "Do you want Daddy to brush your teeth?"
"Yeah. If you're going to be cranky, I want Daddy."
"Ask nicely."
"Okay." Jet trotted to the balcony, "Daaaaaddddy... would you please brush my teeth?"
"Sure, Jet."
...
Ten or fifteen minutes later, little feet pattered down the stairs and a little voice said, "Sorry, Mommy."
"Sorry? I was the one that was cranky."
"Well, I was arguing with you."
"Oh."
"So, I'm sorry, Mommy. I want to nurse."
"Thank you for saying sorry, Jet. I appreciate it."
"You're welcome."