Too smart for her own good.

My nose is not a dainty, petite, feminine nose. I've come to terms with the fact that from my Father I inherited my nose, not my Mother's cute little nose. I take pains to alternate to which side I wipe after a sneeze as my Father's nose tilts slightly to the side after so many years of nonchalant tissue usage. My nose is my nose and I plan on keeping it.
All this leads up to Thursday night at dinner.

I was sitting by Amiya and remarking on her nose. It's cute, well-proportioned and at the moment in question, covered in ranch dressing. I told her how cute I found it and that I, in fact, am quite in love with her itsy-bitsy nose. She told me "Tanks, Mommy!" and then went on to tell me that Daddy's nose was also very cute. I, stupidly enough, asked her how my nose was. She said, "It's fine." and went back to her dinner. WHAT? So, I pursued, even more stupidly. "Is it a cute nose, Amiya?" "It's fine, Mommy." I'm ashamed to say I didn't cease there, but kept asking. Silly, silly me. She makes no bones about the fact that my nose is fine, but definitely not up there with the noses of Amiya and Daddy. Fine then, I guess.