A conversation with my girl tonight went something like this:
Mia: “My face is sore” (she cut it at nursery after trying to climb on a table to show off to Samuel Walker)
Me: “Don’t worry my love, I’ll put some cream on.”
I squeeze cream out of the tube.
Mia (totally shocked): “That cream’s for my bum!”
Me: “No it’s not.”
Mia: “Yes it is, that’s bum cream.”
Me: “It will be OK, it’s nice and soothing.”
Mia (in the most outraged voice she can muster): “I haven’t got a bum face mummy. Don’t give me a bum face.”
Mummy gets the tub of face cream out instead.