As I'm hanging out the washing, my daughter comes to me with an important question. "Mummy, how did Buddha die?" I wasn't expecting this.
"Um, ah, I'm not sure, darling. I think he just got really old and died."
She looks at me suspiciously. "Mum, did you kill Buddha?"
I burst out laughing. She takes this as a sure sign of guilt.
Staring me down, "Mum, why did you kill Buddha?"
I'm speechless. She runs off in tears.
"I didn't kill Buddha. I DIDN'T KILL BUDDHA," I call out.
I'm left standing there with my husband's damp underpants and a plastic clothes peg in my hands, wondering, "What must the neighbours think?"
She knows too much! ;)
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