This picture was taken early March but today our bathroom looks the same as Sophie has a runny nose again. In this picture she’s telling me she needs “two tissues, Mama” to blow her nose when clearly, she needs a gazillion. It’s days like these I feel like a broken record.
“Sophie, only take one tissue to blow your nose.”
“Sophie, please throw away your tissue when you’re done with it.”
“Sophie, please do not clean the sink with your dirty tissue.”
“Yes, Sophie, I know there is one teeny, tiny spec of something on the sink and I know this is causing you much distress but do you hear the screaming babies? Do you see the pile of clean laundry on the couch? Do you see how messy the kitchen is? I have other things I need to do first before I clean up that miniscule piece of dirt from the sink.”
(Screaming ensues. I wipe up spec of dirt.)
“Sophie, if you would just hold still and blow while I hold the tissue up to your nose your nose might only run every other second versus every second.”
“No, Sophie. You do not get a special treat every time you wipe your nose.”
“Sophie, one tissue! One tissue! One tissue.”
“If your kids are giving you a headache, follow the directions on the aspirin bottle, especially the part that says ‘keep away from children.'” —Susan Savannah
