Did I Ever Tell The Story About...
Kids are really disgusting little monkeys sometimes. From that first tarry poop hours after birth, parents find themselves dealing with a wide variety of nasty substances. I love it when I hear someone say "It's just sweet wittle baby poopies." After the first diaper blow-out, when they are covered in slime up to their armpits, the cute factor goes way, way down.
You do get used to it, though. At least, the normal stuff: diapers, runny noses, the occasional spit-up.
But then, you have the events like Miss Maggie's. I've got 900, but the one I thought of this morning took place when my oldest was just over a year old. She had a congested nose, so I took her into the shower with me to see if the steam would help. She stomped and giggled at my feet while I decided to chance a moment of inattention and wash my hair.
I tilted my head back, soothed by the water running past my ears. I stayed that way for a good minute. As I straighted up and opened my eyes, I was treated to the sight of my tiny daughter, nose running like a faucet of snot. She had her nose against the shower doors and was rubbing her face up and down, tongue pressed against the glass surface, gleefully licking her snot.
Her face made a sucking noise as I broke the adhesion of skin and snot from soap-scummy glass. She cried. I wanted to cry. It was gross, but funny.
Hang in there, Meghan.