Milly just came in from being outside with her dad (who had mowed our bushland yard). She was quiet in the kitchen so I hollered in and asked her what she was doing:
"I'm fixing my foots. My feets. My feet ... foots."
I walked in to find her on the floor in front of the stove, with my good dishtowel calmly cleaning mud and dirt off her feet.
I said "Oh sweetie, that towel is for clean hands - not dirty feet! We should use a paper towel!"
She responded "But I'm doing it myself!" Well, yes, but....
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