We Have A Cold
This weekend, Asher and I shared our first communal cold. Parents more experienced than I inform me that every cold from here on out – as well as every stomach bug, bout of pink eye, and ring worm – will also be shared. And the frequency of such events will increase on an exponential scale.
That's fine. Not to sound like a martyr or anything, but I'm no stranger to disgusting infections and rapidly spawning grungies. There's not too much Asher can throw at me that I haven't seen.
What's tough is watching your little shorty snort his way through a pretty Spring afternoon, unsure as to whether this condition will ever subside. When you spend 50% or more of your day with your mouth attached to – let's keep this as couth as possible – a feeding apparatus of some sort, the kind of mouth breathing that's required of the worst head colds can put a major damper on your meal schedule.
There's a quality to the cry of a mildly sick three month old that's unlike any other cries. It's not pained, not despondent. It's just whiny. And maybe pleading. The poor little guy just wants you to know he's not in a good mood.
I hear ya, bud. This'll pass soon enough. Promise.