Image: Flikr/Coxy Flea’s school recently brought in a nurse to talk to the children about hygiene and teach them how to wash their hands.

It’s easy to be cynical about that sort of thing, but I can see she really washes her hands differently, to make sure she gets between her fingers, and the backs of her hands. She’s also learned about germs. “They are so small you can’t see them but if they get in your nose or mouth, they make you poorly,” she tells me.

The lesson has been absorbed so well that when I came down with a cold this week, Flea withdrew bedtime kiss privileges: “You may squeeze me, Mummy, but I will not kiss you if you are poorly.” I know, you can just feel the love, right?

One area where we’ve always been careful with cleanliness is Flea’s skin. She’s got eczema so we’re careful to apply creams to her breakouts (“lurgies”) before they get infected.

On the way home from school today, I told Flea we needed to stop at Boots so I could get some medicine. Being cold season, it was busy at the pharmacy counter, when I asked for my decongestant. “Is that your medicine, Mummy?” asked Flea. I told her, yes, it was my medicine. She paused. “And did you get some cream for your lurgies?”

I swear the whole line of women behind me took a step backwards.