I was drying Q off after her bath, and she did a series of farts.
Me: “Do you need to go to the toilet, Q?”
Q: laughing “Naw, I’m just farting…my farts are scrumptious.”
Me: interesting, “What do you mean by scrumptious?”
Q: “They’re just beautiful, Mum and they make people love one another.”
Aw, how vain, how deluded, how cute! Where’s that therapist’s number?
(without the perfume of Q’s farts to fuel my affection)