Chest

Phoebe and I are in the park, waiting for Emily to come out of school. She is sitting on my lap and stroking my chest while resting her head on my shoulder.

She stops suddenly. "Daddy, why are your boobs getting bigger? And softer?"

Before I even have time to process what she has said, much less construct a robust defence of my toned and manly pectorals, she has started singing a (loud) new song entitled "Daddy is a gur-url! Daddy is a gur-url! Daddy is a gur-url!"

And, to the delight of all, she keeps it up for the rest of the day...