One lunchtime last week a small boy sidled into my office.
'Mrs H., I've had an accident.'
'Oh dear. What sort? A plaster sort of accident?'
'Ummm no...more of a trouser sort of accident.'
Poor thing! He was quite embarrassed, so we went along to the second-hand uniform storage and found him another pair.
But I thought his turn of phrase was most entertaining!
And later on he laughed too. He's that sort of little boy.