Pocket Full of Kryptonite

I think we've already established the fact that Rose is a superbaby. The progress she's made in the last two months is so impressive, it won't be long before she's off and running, leaping tall buildings in a single bound. And just look at that face. It's adorable, right?

Now look closer. First of all, you might notice that she no longer has her evil nasal stent, Rose's most recent nemesis. When we took it out last Wednesday, bits and pieces of everything she had eaten or drunk since the surgery came rushing out with it. It was both incredibly disgusting and a little bit thrilling.

Anyway, you might think that with the nasal stents gone and Rose's pretty little face healing beautifully, all would be peaceful here in our fair city. But just like Achilles had his heel, Superman had Kryptonite, and Metroman had copper, Rose's weakness is soft, white, and made by Kimberly-Clark. That's right-- our girl crumples at the sight of Kleenex. Or rather, she bucks, fights, squirms and completely loses it as soon as she sees me heading toward the innocuous-looking blue box on our kitchen counter.

I don't need a cape- my runny nose is my best accessory

Unfortunately, with a partially open palate, Rose really needs Kleenex. Everything she eats and drinks escapes through her nose. She's been very partial to the Kellogg's cereal bars lately, you know the ones filled with strawberry jam? Consequently, her nose always looks like it's bleeding. With every bottle, rivulets of milk escape from her left nostril. I hear "Does she have a cold?" almost every time I take her in public. But she also has stitches just below her nose, so it's a hard balance for a kleenex-wielding supervillain-- do I try to keep the nose clean, which results in a grumpy baby? Or do I let it drip and run, allowing Rose to get a second meal out of whatever escapes from her nostrils? Or do I leave it alone at home but wipe scrupulously in public? This third option is what I usually resort to, but she wails so loud when I do try to wipe that I have to weigh whether the grocery store grannies are more likely to cluck over a dirty nose or a kid who is absolutely beside herself when the tissue comes into view.

I just know this-- I don't wanna be a supervillain. I'm not cut out for it. I'd much rather be a sidekick, because Rosie and I make a great pair.