Snot, to be precise. For the love of Beechams, but can children do snot. And they do it hard. Gallons and gallons of the stuff. It is really quite unbelievable.
We had a relatively mild Winter this year on the cold front, and I honestly thought we’d cracked it. That mystical, long hoped for IMMUNITY that people speak of had entered Blake’s life. Having had approximately ONE MILLION colds over the last two Winters, he was immune to all but a few sniffles.
BE NOT A MORON.
Because for whatever reason, Momma Nature has decided that we will not be blessed with Summer in May. We will be blessed with Snot. Everyone I know has a hideous cold. People are on the verge of losing lungs thanks to their horrible coughs. Eyes are streaming, voices are croaky, sinus are stinging. Adults and children alike. Blake amongst them.
I had forgotten quite how much snot one child can produce. It streams in varying delightful shades of green, from pastel to neon, from his nose from Dawn to Dusk and into the wee small hours if the green crusty patches on his pillow are anything to go by.
And that is even before we come to the phenomenon that I have christened THE WET SNEEZE. If you are a parent you will know exactly what I am talking about. There is a certain type of grizzly, soggy, gusto filled sneeze that you know comes accompanied with a gallon of the green stuff. The minute you hear it you are running for the tissue box shrieking DON’T EAT IT I’M GETTING YOU A TISSUE and finding them predictably with great candles of the stuff reaching from their nose to their knees. Blake often waits until he is strapped into his car seat and I am driving solo to produce such a sneeze as this and then all I can do is grit my teeth and wait until we reach a traffic light and salvage what I can with my sleeve or jacket.
Talking of which, Blake’s newest and most delightful habit is to wipe his nose on me. He is not fussy. He will wipe it on my shoulder. My sleeve. My hand. My hair. Even, the other night, across the arse of my trousers. Again, it is not uncommon for us parents to come with a snot stain or two, but the fact that these are now delivered deliberately with howls of laughter makes it a little worse. Because it proclaims that my child uses me as a snot rag, and in the ever-raging journey to pick my battles, I have chosen not to pick this one. And so the green stuff abounds.
Get well soon everyone. Especially Pom, who has the nastiest cough I’ve ever come across.
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