sicktess

After much research and experimentation this week, I have come to a certain and profound conclusion:

No color of shirt is good for hiding snot.

I dare you to prove me wrong.

The kids seemed unaware that I hauled a large box of Kleenex upstairs, downstairs, into the laundry, under the table, in short, anywhere we went.  They just used their sleeves over and over. They knew it was wrong for them to do because they would chastise each other (“Don’t wipe your face on your shirt!” they’d sing), try to hide the slimy tracks when we’d meet or, if they did it in my presence, eying me guiltily as they dragged their noses across the fabric.

Most shocking to me was the number of places they had snot.  It ranged from up high on their shoulders all the way down to their wrists.  I saw it all over the front of their shirts, too. In fact, Philip, somehow, even ended up with some on his back.  His back!

I was not immune to their leaking either.  Especially with Ellie in tow, I wound up wearing a good deal of sickness. Blech.

As a result of all this nastiness, we’ve all been singing one of our favorite songs throughout the week.  So fitting.

“Though your parent’s are musicians,

We must convince the neighbors, we’re civilized at our end of the block, (it’s important to your mother)

What am I supposed to tell the Kalish’s and Haber’s

If they see you running ’round with food or MUCUS on your smock?

You can pretend you’re a pirate in that mud puddle,

Oh, even though you’re just a little squirt. (Make a big mess if you want!)

But you boys must understand,

There’s a line drawn in the sand!

Don’t wipe your face on your shirt. Don’t wipe your face on your shirt!”

-Cornell Hurd Band