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Highly Directional Periscopic Nose and Extendable Lips

Do people frequently ask you what super power you'd choose if you ever had the option? It seems like this question comes up way too often in conversation. I can rarely think of a good answer and so my "life of the party" reputation is regularly put in jeopardy.

Not anymore. I will forevermore dazzle my friends at play dates and freshman mixers now that I've come up with the best superpowers ever. I want a highly-directional periscopic nose and extendable lips. These are powers I never would have dreamed of until becoming a mother.

First, the schnoz. Magoo's poop comes in spurts. Okay. That didn't come out right. Okay. That sounds even worse. Let's try this one more time. Magoo will go on a dookie strike for a few days and then he'll have several "movements" in one day. On poop days his little tooshie gets so sore. I try not to let him go for very long with a full load.

Inevitably I will enter his room to check on him while he's sleeping and find a room full of putrescence. And I'm not sure. Is it the lingering presence of an earlier incident or do I need to wake him up and change him so he won't be sleeping in filth? It's really hard to tell sometimes. I stand with my face smooshed up against the crib, willing my nose to stretch through the bars to reach his little muffin bum. Several nights Dan and I have discussed inventing some sort of nasal periscope to market to parents in just such a predicament. But I wouldn't need a device like that if I were gifted with the power of a highly-directional periscopic nose.

I didn't kiss it fast enough

Second, the lips. A kiss from mom can heal all wounds. Magoo takes this cure very seriously. No matter how minor or serious the injury, he knows that a precision maternal pucker applied to the damaged area will make the pain go away. Precision is key. If he limps over to me with his foot raised in the air, declaring that I need to "kiss it bock" and I kiss the ball of the foot when the actual injury was to the outer fleshy area of the pinky toe, SCREECHING will commence, "NO! Kiss it BO-O-O-CK!"

Sometimes it's really hard or inconvenient to reach my lips down to the strange and exotic region that he has bocked on the wall, matchbox car or air pocket. He's still young enough that if I can touch the back of his earlobe with the tip of my finger while making a puckering sound with my lips, he will consider it "kissed." I'm honestly not sure how much longer this sleight of lips will keep working. If only my lips could stretch long enough to kiss his pathetic little self without me ever getting off the bon-bon-laden couch, I'd likely never need to visit a pediatrician again.

How about you? What parental superpowers would you love to add to your arsenal?


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