I am playing with Swee’Pea and TheMonk in the playroom next to the kitchen while Mommy prepares dinner.
Suddenly, we hear the distinctive three beeps that announce that the microwave is done.
Upon hearing this Swee’Pea perks up, jumps to her feet and screams out loud… “DINNER’S READY!”
We might actually have to start using that stove thing – so Swee’Pea doesn’t think all meals come from a microwave.
I am lying on the couch dozing while Swee’Pea and TheMonk play in the room. I am not quite asleep and vaguely aware of their presence.
Suddenly, it gets quiet and I can feel the heat of two toddler bodies suddenly close to me on the couch. I don’t open my eyes but I have a feeling I’m being watched.
Suddenly, I hear Swee’Pea say, “Daddy. Daddy has mocos“*
TheMonk, must be agreement because I hear an affirmative-sounding “Uh-Huuuuuh” come from him.
I open my eyes to see two two-year-olds looking at me. They are not just looking at me, however. No, they are looking at me with their chubby little index fingers firmly planted up their own little nose. As if the mere talk of daddy’s snot has caused them to go mining for their own.
I gotta say there are few moments in one’s life where you can say you’ve been awakened by a double finger-up-the-nose salute.
*”Mocos” is spanish for mucus, snot, boogers, whatever you call it in your household.
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