My daughter and I are having one of those moments. I’m holding her close as we stare into each other’s eyes with that special mama-daughter love.
Until N breaks eye contact and furrows her brow at my chin.
My daughter reaches out her hand: Mama, fall down?
Me: No. It’s not booboo, sweetie. It’s a zit. We all have pores in our skin and this one’s infected. But it doesn’t hurt. You can even pick them and pop them!
N: No hurt?
Me: Only my pride.
My daughter picks at it for a minute longer then scans my body for more of these mysterious non-booboos.
She suddenly lights up as she reaches out her hand shouting: ZIT!
With a yelp and a well-timed elbow block, I narrowly keep her from popping my nipple.