This ursine apparition was the nothing's-going-to-make-me-happy, no-matter-how-many-books-you-read or how-many-episodes-of-Clifford-you-let-me-watch because I-just-had-a-nightmare kind.
Of course, she can't tell me about her distress because A) She's not sure of this "nightmare" thing and B) she doesn't remember why she's upset.
This was a just your average, run-of-the-mill, stand-in-the-middle-of-the-room-and-wail MASTERPIECE.
Eat breakfast? NO!
Get dressed? NO!
Read a book? NO!
Go back to bed and get up when you feel better? NO!
Maybe the potty would help? NO!NO!NO!
So I did what any at-wit's-end, 20-minutes-until-I-have-to-leave-for-work mommy might do; we went to the car wash.
What is this?
It's like an amusement park ride.
What's an asmuseman part ride?
Nevermind, it will be fun. It's like a shower for the car.
Oh ... it's dark in here. .. ooooh there's soap and water. ... and we not getting wet, mama! This IS fun!
Let's do it again, okay?