My daughters’ favourite game at the moment appears to be “remember that time Mum did or said something awful that ruined my life?”, that thing usually being not letting them get a really short haircut or something of that ilk*. I tell you, an elephant has nothing on the steel trap of a memory that teenage daughters display when it comes to a perceived slight.
Mind you, I remember clearly that time my mum said my sister had a much better singing voice than me, and that was decades ago. And it was true.
*and also, leaping on them from across the room, pinning them down and pulling out any loose teeth the moment they mention one is wiggly. Also flicking them with towels. Not proud of that one.