The Tall One to whom I am married tells such a funny story of having a SEVERE case of chapped lips as a child at boy scout camp. It's one of my favorites. Right up there w/ the story of his mom sending her little boy spaghetti and meatballs to cook over the campfire. NOT Spaghetti-O's in a can. REAL LIVE SPAGHETTI. The hard kind. The poor child was expected to boil water! And make ... and cook ... BALLS!
Back to lips.
The Short One has a set to rival his boy scout daddy's. He and I are suffering from the same runny nose, and while I know not to rub and wipe, excessively, all ... day ... long, The Short One struggles w/ that.
He also struggles w/ applying lip balm w/o eating it. So does the dog. But, at least my child is neater about it.
Sometimes he struggles w/ applying it AT ALL if it's not flavored just so. So much so that I often have to sneak into his bedroom at nite once he's sucking and blowing thru his sleepy, stuffy nose to apply Neosporin or some other heavy-duty ointment to his lips and surrounding area.
Today, I prepped him for the impending application.
"Tonite when we put on PJs and tuck into bed, you and Mommy are going to both put on our 'lipstick,' okee dokee?"
He seemed keen on the idea, especially when he realized he'd be able to choose the flavor from MY container of gimme balms from every race or event I've ever entered.
He chose one w/ a logo of a red bicycle. I think it promotes a beer.
He wanted that one because it was "bike flavored."
Bike flavored.
I like that one too. Heckuva lot better than sweaty running shoe flavored, or mildewy swimsuit flavored.
Or campfire spaghetti flavored.
My pooooor boys ...
