If Carina has a stuffy nose and is struggling with a booger, I usually break out the big guns (aka the Nosefrida). However, if I can't find the snotsucker, or if said boogie is already half-way out of her honker, I just reach in and swipe it. I swear at almost 9 months old she must already know of the social impropriety of my actions, because she just stares at me with this, "did you seriously just do that, Mom?" look on her face.
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| What, you got a problem with my boogers? |
On mornings when Carina wakes up at the ungodly hour of 5 AM, I feed her and then bring her into our bed in the {sometimes vain} hope that she will fall asleep again. I put her right in between M and I, usually on a baby blanket. One successful morning, I picked her up after her nap and soon realized that she had bathed her clothes in a lovely dusting of #2. I looked down at the baby blanket. Yep. Another victim. I threw it directly in the hamper.
That night, as I was heading to bed I noticed some discoloration on the bed sheet. After examining it closely, it became clear that little miss dumpy had not only soaked through her pajamas and the baby blanket - her turds had stained the bed sheets as well. At this point I was so exhausted, I wasn't going to let a little bit of dried poop get in my way, so I climbed into bed and fell asleep. I assured my self I would take care of it the next morning.
The next day I forgot. Then the next; I was too tired. Then it escaped my mind, and so on...6 days later, that poo was still starting me right in the face. Finally, I peeled off the sheet and made haste for the laundry room, feeling gross and embarrassed.
Sleeping in 6 day-old baby droppings and digging for infant nose-gold; just another day in the G household...
Why do I just not care? Please tell me you do some gross stuff, too? Or go ahead and tell me I'm a vile and repulsive creature. Up to you.
