The Boy has a cold

The Boy has a cold.  You know what a cold means when you're the parent of a toddler?  It means, don't wear dark, solid colors because you get to be the human tissue.  Now, this wasn't the case with dear sweet Becks.  At an early age she figured out that snot running down her face was disgusting so she learned how to wipe her nose.  I love that child.  A child who wipes her nose at an early age is a blessing. 

I digress.

The Boy has a cold.  I think the girls are feeling puny too, and since its been hard to get their glassy little eyes to focus, we've done very little school today.  Its ok.  We'll do more tomorrow.  They all went willingly to their room, no negotiating (and I had planned on letting the girls skip quiet time so we could work on phonics, but they thwarted me by wanting to nap).  Boy crawled up the ladder to the bunk bed and snuggled down into Becks' pretty, oh-so-pink, princess bed.  Becks was less than impressed, moreso due to the fact that boy is a snot fountain.  Looking at my watery-eyed, tired, little boy, I asked him to get down.  Sadly, he looked into my eyes and asked me to make sissy snuggle him.  I said no. Lower lip sticking out, big, sad, blue eyes looking at me he said "pwease", I looked at sweet, germophobic Becks and knew I couldn't cave, again I said no, trying to reason with Boy... then he brought his chubby hand to his face, I thought he was going to smear it across that fount of snot, instead, he brought his thumb to his nose, looking me in the eye with his serious, big blue eyes, and he extended his fingers and waved them.

The whole room was silent, and then the girls and I lost it.  Gnomes offers Boy a place in her bed to snuggle with her. 

And quiet reigns for the moment.