This afternoon, my dearest daughter told me off. She'd been sitting on my lap, and looked down at my arms. 'No Mommy, no drawing!" she told me, wagging her finger at me. I looked down, and realised that she thought my veins were pen marks.
As I tried to explain that they weren't drawings, but my veins, she got more and more cross with me. 'NO MOMMY! NO VEIN! DRAWING!" Yes, darling, no vein. Drawing. You're right.
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