We were making pie from the apples he picked on the field trip this week.
Miles caught himself licking his fingers. He trotted to the sink.
"I'm washing my hands to get off the germs in case a friend has some of that pie. I am a lot more precious about germs."
I twisted my smile back to a neutral line.
Yes you are precious, Miles. I tell him so, and then I define conscious and precious.