Nora is crying with a voice full of cold. weeping, bitter confused tears. Why won't I pick her up? Why won't I cuddle her? Why does Mummy keep wanting me to go to bed when all I need is to be wrapped up in her arms?
And so I do. Of course. She's exhausted, and sobbing and it's ridiculous. How on earth can I possibly justify trying to get her to sleep alone in her cot at a time like this.
(It takes two goes. She's asleep right now. I'm praying for her sake that she stays asleep, but she won't. Guaranteed).
...and still no fucking teeth.