Emma just came into to the living room, in tears. The following conversation took place:
Emma: "Mommy, I need the glue."
Me, distracted, and browsing around Ravelry: "Why sweetie? What are you going to glue?"
Emma: "Me, Mommy."
Me, suddenly not distracted: "What?"
Emma, sobbing: "I have to glue me, Mommy. I broke myself."
Emma: "My eye broke. Am I going to be OK?"
She held out an eyelash, which evidently fell out when she rubbed her eye.
I explained. We're OK now.
(Thank goodness she knows to ask before getting glue off the shelf.)