Saturday, March 30, 2013

The Wash Cloth

Yesterday afternoon, I was busy folding the laundry in the living room.  Son #2 bounded in from the back yard and scurried to see the piles of clothes.  He yelped and cooed while tossing the neatly folded stacks onto the floor.  I sighed in exasperation and began to refold the jumbled mess.

Son #2 discovered a fresh wash cloth on a stack of crisp linen.  He picked it up, brought it to his face, and made a funny sound.  I looked down curiously and asked.  "Baby, what are you doing?"

He giggled and responded.  "All done."

I watched him as he ran around the living room with the wash cloth.  Son #2 stopped suddenly and put the wash cloth to his face again.  I gently pulled the wash cloth down and looked at his face.  Clear boogers trailed down his nose to his upper lip.  He grinned and blew his nose on the wash cloth.  My eyes opened wide as I realized that my sweet baby boy was blowing his boogers onto my clean laundry.

Son #2 looked up from his soiled wash cloth and mumbled something in baby talk.  Then, he bobbled down the hall toward his room.  Before entering, I caught sight of him blowing his nose into the wash cloth again.  I closed my eyes, shook my head, and tried to find my happy place.

I will focus on being proud of Son #2 for blowing his nose independently.

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