Those darn sinuses...

Dear Nicky,

There is love, then there is love. The latter is the kind that allows a person to suck out gobs of sticky green snot out of his kid's nose, despite that kid flailing and crying and in general reacting to the torturous sensations of forced saline irrigation and rubber suction devices as if he is, well, being tortured. That's what I did this morning, then I gave you a snoot of Rhinocort. You were in pretty good shape for the rest of the day, and when I tormented you again this evening with trembling hands and a quavering heart, the fruit of your nostrils was not nearly so copious and offensive to the eye as this morning's emissions. That's love for you, my boy, that's my love for my boy, that I do that which breaks my heart a little bit each time and rends my spirit far more than it aggravates you physically, that you might feel better and sleep better and not have rivers of snot flowing out all over your face. You're welcome.

Love,
Dad