Tadpole and I sit on her bed, side by side. I bend forwards to unbuckle her shoes (Clarks, navy blue and purple with sequins. Sensible shoes fit for a princess.)
“Mummy, I can see a bottom peeping there,” shrieks Tadpole. An icy hand reaches for the space between my jumper and my low waist jeans and I flinch in anticipation of her touch.
“Why do they fall off, your trousers?” she continues, puzzled now. “Look mummy!” She turns to show me her own rear. “We can’t see my bottom, can we? My trousers don’t do that…”
“And a good thing too!” I say, hastily pulling my jumper down.
There are some scenes that need to take place behind closed doors, and that was definitely one of them.