Get a bag

Picture this:

As I’m dropping Eirinn off at Bugba’s/daycare, I ask for my morning goodbye kiss.  Mama’s gotta go to work.  Surprisingly, this morning she doesn’t put up a fuss.  In fact, she comes running to me, lips puckered.  My heart leaps and I couldn’t be happier.  We make our mwah mwah mwah noise.

Now here’s where you should have taken my advice and gotten a bag.  Good luck to you if you thought I was joking.

Our lips touch and release in typical kissy fashion.  As I’m pulling away, life is now in slow motion.  I cross my eyes and look down.  What do I see but the one thing that is guaranteed to make me kvetch every time.  Gay-ron-teed.  A long, slimy, warm string of snot attached on one end to her nose and on the other?  My lips.  Snot.  Touching my lips.  I nearly fainted.  The only thing that stopped me from passing out right there on the floor was the overwhelming urge to hurl. 

It was snot.  On my lips.  And I could taste it.  I’m still queasy.

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1 Response to “Get a bag”


  1. 1 Carly October 30, 2007 at 9:24 am

    You know, sometimes you and I and our babies really FREAK ME THE HELL OUT.

    Because the exact. same. thing. happened to Lucy and I this morning.

    Seriously. WTF?


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Tornado Eirinn

The life and times, trials and tribulations, crimes and punishments, lessons learned and scores settled by my daughter, Eirinn, AKA The Tornado.

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