All the tension has left his face. His lips spread forward to resemble a tiny Mick Jagger pout. The Kid is finally asleep. Unless … oh no … I can feel it coming … unless […]
All the tension has left his face. His lips spread forward to resemble a tiny Mick Jagger pout. The Kid is finally asleep. Unless … oh no … I can feel it coming … unless I sneeze.
Second only to dressing your baby up in silly hats and taking pictures while he’s sleeping (who would do such a thing?), sneezing is probably the worst thing a person can do around a sleeping baby. Yes. A person’s sneeze has germs. Germs are bad. Germs can give babies colds, and sneezing on a baby can give them a wet face. But mostly, this kind of sneeze is bad for one reason and one reason only: THE BABY WAKES UP.
The first time I accidentally sneezed while The Kid was sleeping, it was like someone told him Miley Cyrus was in our house. His eyes flashed open and he turned into a screaming fountain of tears.
So, feeling a sneeze coming on, I try my best to tense my nasal passages while keeping my body nice and relaxed. The Kid has some sort of built in motion detector that senses subtle changes in movement. It’s pretty impressive.
Silently sneezing is not the easiest of tasks—like trying to sneeze with your eyes open. But it’s a new skill I’ve learned, like eating with one hand and hearing him cry from five rooms away. So, this is being added to my new skill set.
I close my eyes and keep my mouth closed tight against the sheer power of the sneeze.
It happens. My head does not explode.
I look down and check his Mick Jagger lips.
Nothing. Not a twitch. We have won!
The door creeks open as my husband enters to check on us.
“How’s it going?” he whispers.
I give a thumbs up, and just as we are about to leave, my husband sneezes.
ARE YOU KIDDING ME?
I can’t get no satisfaction.