I'm standing at the door to Nic's school this morning. We're waiting for Vanessa or Luz to come open up, so Nic can go inside.
It has been our custom each morning for the last two years to give each other a kiss before Nic crosses the threshold.
So, this morning, I bend down to do so. I pucker my lips, and, for the first time in two years, Nic opens his mouth up wide as if he wants to show me something in his mouth.
He does so with such commitment, that I'm pretty sure I can see his...yep, that's it: his liver.
So I'm thinking to myself: "Okay, what is it, buddy? What's bothering you? Cirrhosis?"
He holds the mouth-wide-open pose a few more seconds. Meanwhile, I continue to pucker, and he's starting to resemble a yawning yak as portrayed in the "ABC" book by Dr. Seuss.
Now, I'm starting to feel stupid, because here I am, lips at attention, while my boy looks as if he's ready to french-kiss me--and about three or four moms are all standing by to see what transpires.
My face has been about 3 centimeters from his face now for what seems like 20 seconds, so I'm thinking: "Close your mouth, Nic. Just close your mouth."
He did so. By way of the largest sneeze I've ever seen in my life.
I now wish I had been wearing some kind of lip balm to serve as a protective shield from the spray that emanated from his fire-hose nose.
He also sprayed my glasses and the snot population in my nose doubled in .3 seconds due to a sudden influx of liquid from the outside world.
His sneeze had such force, I'm sure my liver became directly infected.
Without wiping myself off, I kissed him quickly and averted my gaze from the smirks of the Spanish madre's.
With that, Nic turned around and showed his "Bob the Builder" hat to Luz, his teacher. He pranced over the threshold, smiling, oblivious to the fact that he'd just given me a mucous shower.