Opening with an exquisite gag about the modish ADHD that her loved ones are constantly trying to diagnose her with, Suzi Ruffell is, however, no late adopter where mental-health struggles are concerned. The pandemic and becoming mother to a three-year-old daughter have reignited her latent anxiety, with the agitated stand-up now offloading onto her wife as much as the tiny doll she retains from childhood.

Incorporating a brief display of her youthful dance skills, Ruffell’s physical clowning tendencies have flourished in her recent hours, without ever growing too contrived. And her jerky, nervy delivery is a fine fit for the psychological skittishness she unburdens herself of. Becoming a lesbian mother has put her in situations where even well-meaning, liberal strangers can’t resist invading her privacy with prurient questions, awkward interactions that she recreates with vivid, blow-by-blow accounts.

^{Suzi Ruffell on Live From The BBC / Picture Mark Allan}

Perhaps the stand-out characters in her playlets are her geezerish father, embroiling his daughter in accidental criminality, and her headstrong toddler. There’s no rhyme or reason to why the child has acquired a Hispanic accent, at least, in Ruffell’s recreation. Yet she has great fun with it, even as you’re constantly reminded of fellow stand-up Jen Brister’s portrayal of her late mother.

An earnest section, with Ruffell imagining trying to justify the current political landscape to her grown-up daughter has sufficient, benefit-of-hindsight jokes to earn its airing. But it sticks out somewhat abruptly and awkwardly at the show’s three-quarter point. Ultimately, an embarrassing encounter with the comic’s adolescent idol affords Snappy a sheen of resolution, with her social gaucheness very much on-brand.

Suzi Ruffell: Snappy is on tour until Thursday 15 June; reviewed at The Stand, Glasgow, as part of Glasgow International Comedy Festival.