Yeah. We're all class around here.
We went to the grocery store today. It was busy. Pre-noon football rush.
I did not bring my purse. I prefer not to when I shop for groceries. The fifty plastic bags they pack for me with two items each in them are enough to lug around. Plus a toddler. Some snacks. Maybe some water.
Little man is getting over a cold, but he's been stuffy, not runny. Of course, that is, until we set foot in the grocery store.
Once I placed him in the cart and made it to the middle of a crowded produce area, he let out a sneeze that might just have registered on the Richter scale. That sneeze brought forth the biggest blobiest greenest trails of snot out of each side his nose. You know what I'm talking about. Not see-through. Neon green and thick.
We looked at each other surprised. In the nano-second it took me to check for wadded up tissues in my pocket faster than a gunslinger in the wild wild west, those thick trails of snot moved like two gooey caterpillars. I watched in slow motion as they rode up the curve of his upper lip, preparing to slide into his mouth. I did what every mother (worth a snot) would do.
I unzipped my jacket and grabbed the bottom of my t shirt. In one quick motion I wiped his nose and flashed my white belly at the unsuspecting sushi- guy in the kamikaze headband who was minding his own tuna and rice vinegar. He may actually have seen the underside of a boob because I had no idea I'd be lifting my shirt up there and my girls were un-restrained.
I didn't look around and try to make apologetic smiles at the people around me, hoping they would understand. I was not sorry or embarrassed, really, because what else was I supposed to do? ( I did quickly consider snatching of those plastic produce bags and swiping it across his face, but I decided that just would have made it worse.) That, and the fact that I was so consumed with getting that off of his face, I didn't have the pleasure of seeing who witnessed me in all my mothering glory.
So I just put my boogey covered t shirt back down, wiped my hands on my pants, zipped up my coat, smiled at my boy and headed for the tissue isle.
(I'll bet nobody followed me)