The snot...it is everywhere. I think you reach a whole new stage in life when you can write a whole post about snot. But I can...just watch me. Little trails of it all over my clothes. Finding it on the furniture. Wiped it off the cat. Really, I did. And then? I spent fifteen minutes looking for a bandaid for a scratch on Annie's arm (because a bandaid? It makes everything better. ) only to find that the scratch was really a trail of dried up snot. I have reached a new low.
And when the snot arrives, you know you will spend weeks dealing with it. Dried up on faces in the morning, running freely throughout the day. Constant wiping, which then makes for cranky children. "DOOOOOOON'T COME AT ME WITH THAT WET RAG WOMAN!!!" Wipe, wipe, wipe, clean face! Crying!! Snot bubbles form and faces are messy again. Repeat process. Weeks, people...weeks.
But I will leave you with this...memories of better times, before the snot covered the toys and before the children were tired of dealing with The Woman with the Snot Rag.
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