Let's think of happy things Wednesday, August 05, 2009

I have joined the ranks of all the moms that have come before me this morning. Proudly following in the footsteps of my mother, my mother's mother, mother's mother's mother, and so on, I licked my thumb and tried to clean the milk moustache off my daughter's face. I got out of my car and reached in to unbuckle her from the carseat and saw the offending moustache and knew that she could not go into daycare looking so disheveled. Without any thought, I ran the tip of right thumb along the edge of my tongue and then applied that moisture to the corners of the daughter's mouth. It didn't work. Now I understand why my mom rubbed so freaking hard.

I then stepped even further into my mom shoes by digging out a partially used tissue from my purse, moistening a clean part with some spit and then rubbing that on my daughter's face. I not only cleaned off the milk moustache, but I removed the snot smudge, and then dug the booger out of her nose all in the same swooping motion. She was clean and ready to be seen in public. So what if she was now crying and mad at me for touching her with a slightly dirty and damp tissue? She was going to be seen by people and I would be judged by her appearance*.

I am now wearing my mom badge in appreciation of this humbling moment in the history of moms.


*I may have also licked my whole hand and pressed it on some hair that was sticking up from the back of her head. Possibly.