My Own Knees

In the park, I touched Klara’s knees to see if she had gotten them wet while climbing on the equipment.

“Don’t take my knees, mamma!” she said indignantly. “You have your own knees. I have my own knees.”

It’s not easy for her to pronounce so she enunciates “your own knees” very carefully to make sure I get the message.

I swear to God I didn’t teach her the bit about “her own knees.”

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