19/11/2010 15:53 GMT | Updated 22/05/2015 10:12 BST

Achtung Baby Or Frisky Sex Education!

Having had what could loosely be described as a sex education lesson in school at the age of 14, I seem to remember leaving the classroom with no more knowledge of all things carnal than before we went in. sex education

Finje will have to go up many many dress sizes before we need to have that conversation. Yesterday though, I inadvertently and unwittingly stumbled into a similar topic when "faced" with the irritatingly pert, track-suit-bottomed rear-end of a adolescent Mädchen in the bakery. Emblazoned over her buttocks was the word "FRISKY".

She can't have been a day older than 12!

Pondering over the advantages of Finje's inability to read, somewhere in my daydream I heard a voice and looked down to see her pointing directly at the girl's posterior,

"Look mama, "F" like Finje. Why has she got Finje on her po?"

I'd forgotten that we had been practicing name writing recently and she had developed a fixation with the letter "F".

Not known for my "brain-into-gear-before-mouth-into-action" approach, I answered,

"That doesn't say Finje it says Frisky. Well done for spotting the "F" though."

It was inevitable,

"What does Frisky mean?"

The irony of the situation was, that the pert and frisky young whipper-snapper in question probably had no idea how she was advertising herself. The German translation, had she bothered to look it up, which I doubted, would have given her "verspielt". Not half as cool I suspect.

Yet again demonstrating my exemplary parenting skills, I ignored the question in the vain hope that she would be distracted by bread rolls. In doing so, I eavesdropped Frisky's conversation on her mobile. Apparently her big sister was about to embark on a gap year. Whilst I speculated over the chances of me doing the same, that voice broke through yet again. The bread rolls were failing to hold her attention. An answer was required.

"I think it is just her name. There so she doesn't forget it"

Finje had her frowny, thinky face on. The next bit happened in a sort of horrendous slow motion. She shuffled forward in the queue, introduced herself to a rather startled Frisky and proceeded to advise her that having her name on her po was silly because she couldn't see it if she forgot it.

Despite my attempts to pretend I had nothing to do with her she returned to my side and then asked if she could have a croissant.

Her work was done.