The little guy has a cold. He is snotty, coughing, and generally kinda gross. I feel bad for my little love bug. But I also feel bad for my husband and I. On Saturday morning my husband caught the little guy wiping his snot all over the pillow case--my husband's pillow case, that it. We wash our sheets on Saturdays (it's just what we do), so everything was going to be tossed into the hot cycle and the snot didn't seem like that big of a deal.
Last night the kiddos were watching a little Dinosaur Train after dinner and my husband and I were taking 20 minutes to actually try and read something. I happened to look up after my son let out a big sneeze and catch him wiping his snot onto the cozy couch blanket. Perhaps that needs to go into the hot cycle as well, I thought to myself with a smile.
But the jewel of the snot story is this: After a nice hot shower (and a nice long day), I climbed into our bed with its lovely clean sheets. I looked at the space between where my husband and I generally lay our heads and saw a priceless collection of little hard snot balls. I would like to clarify that they weren't my snot balls and they weren't my husband's snot balls.
I have to admit that I love cuddling with the little guy when he climbs into our bed at 6:15 am every day. I am annoyed that I am losing valuable sleep, but I cling to him because he is so warm and cozy and I know it will not always be this way. One day my little boy will not be interested in cuddling with his Mama or watching cartoons under a cozy blanket next to his sister. I suppose if snot in my bed and snot on our blankets is the price I have to pay, then so be it. Snot eventually goes away, especially in the washing machine.
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