The two littlest girls have colds, and although I've tried to escape by conscientiously washing my hands and occasionally chugging a quarter-full glass of water still fizzing from a nearly-dissolved Airborne tablet, I've been nabbed.
Little kids with colds don't know what to do with themselves. They drip snot. They rub their faces onto my pants leg and shirt sleeve. The baby reaches her little hand -- the same hand she was just slobbering on -- and plants it directly on my mouth.
So, I've rolled with it. While playing this evening, I asked Brooke if she could pass me the Kleenex box. She went the extra distance. Pulling one out, she said, "Here you go, Mommy" as she wiped her nose with it and then handed it to me, crumpled and moist.
At least she's sharing, right?