I’m moisturising the Bean after her bath – a ritual we follow strictly since her eczema diagnosis when she was born. Out of sheer habit I squeeze her nose bridge and as usual she says Owwww…
Bean – Why do you squish my nose, Mama?
MM: Because you have Mama’s snub nose and I’m trying to make it sharper… like… Cleopatra’s nose!
Bean: I don’t want a nose like Cleopatra
MM: Okay – like, Dora then, or Aishwarya Rai… or…
Bean: I don’t want their noses.
MM: So then what do you want?
Bean: I want my nose to look like it is!
Dear God, thank you! In a world of botox and concealing grey hair and nose jobs and fake boobs, I do hope the little monster stays just as she is…
While on the subject of changing attitudes, we’re walking to the bus stop and the Brat points out to two boys with their mothers.
Brat: Mama, don’t they have fathers?
MM: Of course they do, darling. Why do you ask?
Brat: Because I never see them dropping them to school or playing with them on the swings or taking them on the cycle or swimming with them… like my dada.
You go, OA!