Why are you so sticky??


My dear, sweet boy…

Why are you so sticky? And gooey? And icky? Every time I turn around, there’s a snot bubble coming out of your nose. Or milk running down your chin. Or yogurt that you’ve been playing in. Or mud under your fingernails. Or dog poop on your shoes. Or spaghetti in your hair. WHY ARE YOU SO FREAKIN’ STICKY??

There aren’t enough paper towels or baby wipes in the world to help you. And I don’t know what to do! And that’s not all. When you get sticky, my house gets sticky. My table, my doors, my walls, my couches…and even my dogs! And me…

It saddens me that you’ll never be able to wear white. I bought a white shirt for you once. And then you got sticky. A Tide Pen wasn’t even a match for you. I scrubbed to no avail. Yet the shirt still died. Because you’re a professional, by boy. A freakin’ pro!

The other day, I bought white rugs. Not totally white, but that off white color. The color that’s a little too yellow for bleach, but a little too white for you. It’s already gross. I had to cut gum out of it two days after I got it. I don’t even know where you found gum. What the hell was I thinking?

It saddens me that I can’t wear white either. I’ve tried. I end up with ravioli sauce on my clothes. Not because I got it there. But because you think it’s funny to rub your grubby little paws on me the minute they are covered in something disgusting. And sticky.

Sometimes I think about wrapping you in a trash bag. But that would be frowned upon. And probably a little unsafe. But it would be amazing. Just think. Every time you sit down to eat your sticky goodness, mommy would place a you in a trash bag, and duct tape the bag to the chair. (Don’t worry, I’d leave your arms free so you can stuff your sticky face.) It would be like our own little wonderful barrier. To keep you from getting everything else sticky. Ahhh…but I can’t.

For now, I guess you’ll just stay sticky. For now, I will just hope that someday, you’ll grow out of it…but your dad is 40, and he never did. So, I guess you’re screwed. He can’t wear white either… I guess white just isn’t your color. Or your father’s.

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