Yesterday morning Melody had some peanut butter on toast.
When we went outside, I realized she had PB all around her mouth. I giggled and said "Come here and let me clean you up, Peanut Butter Face." I proceeded to wipe her down with a universal solvent (saliva).
We walked down the block, and half a block later, she suddenly broke down, wailing. In her hysterics, she let out a series of unintelligble words.
I told her to calm down and tell me in a nice-girl voice what she was trying to say.
"I don't want to be a peanut butter face," she pouted.
I love that it took her half a block to ponder the label and form an opinion about it.