I thought she'd shout, maybe swear a bit.
I thought perhaps she'd call me names.
But I didn't anticipate the look of horror on her face when she first realised what was about to happen to her -- that was priceless.
The little helpless yelps, "no, no, ..." as I reached into my bag -- they were priceless too.
And yes, she was cross. A bit. She didn't shout or swear, though.
And the worse name she called me was "evil man". Repeatedly, I seem to recall.
But when she finally submitted, when she finally allowed me to give her what we both knew she'd wanted all along, she had tears in her eyes.
Those tears, they didn't fall -- no, she's very good at that, she held them back -- but I had seen them, I knew that they were there.
Those tears, my little victory, they were the most priceless things of all.
Now, can we both claim "passed one, failed one"?
On paper, yes. I think we both did better than that.