"Moppet, do you need to go do susu?"
"Are you sure? Come on, let's go sit and see"
"No! No, no, no!" (vigorous head shaking)
60 seconds later, she's standing in a pool of piddle, her plastic blocks and stacking cups generously splashed too.
She meets my angry glare with equanimity. Straight-faced, she says: "Uh-oh"
Moppet is doing her little pick-me-up jig at my feet. I bend down and tell her that big girls go walking; so should she.
She considers this for a moment then points at herself and says "Baby." And looking up at me as if to emphasize my bigness, she pats my knee and says, "Mama, walking."
Confident that there can be no further argument, she raises her arms to be picked up. She is.
Whenever she does something good, I usually give her an enthusiastic 'Good girl' and a high five. Moppet has picked this up and uses it to her own end. After she's done some mischief (usually of the expressly forbidden kind), she knows no one's going to say good girl to her, so she says it for herself. "Goo-gal!"