My daughter jumped into bed with me after both of us had woken from gorgeous afternoon naps. Normal hugs, kisses, tickles and cuddles were followed by my little one wanting to play the 'name that body part' game. This is what went down...
LO: "Look. Freckle!" (on her arm).
Me: "Yes, and mommy has freckles on her arm too!"
I have way too many in fact, all from growing up in the South African sun. Don't think I've added that many in the past 8 years while living and spending most of my time in the UK.
LO: (After brief inspection of mommy's freckles). "What's that?" (pointing to my rather wrinkly elbow flesh)
My elbow has a tiny scar on it from where one of the family dog's we had whilst growing up accidentally bit me when I was about 10.
Me: "It's my elbow, sweetie."
At this point I straightened my arm to look at it, so the skin was no longer tight.
LO: "Ewww!!" (Looks of utter horror and disgust! Examines her flexed arm which looks nothing like the funny skin that mommy has on her elbow).
Me: "It's just my elbow..."
I don't think that all the Bio Oil in the world can help my chicken skin now. It honestly isn't that bad, but way to go to give me a small complex!
Glad to know that I can make my daughter cringe at just the slightest flick of my arm. Who needs the naught step when I have a wrinkly old elbow to disgust her into listening to me...