Ella’s had a cold for a few days. She’s congested, drooly, restless, scratchy, extra cranky, alternately uninterested in food and desperately hungry, and just generally sour. More than that, though, she’s diligently working at innovative techniques for producing maximum decibels from her lungs, throat, and mouth. It’s quite the R&D; project.
In the process, I’ve been developing a technique to distract and quiet her. When she’s in the middle of a mid-range rant, I can pick her up and do that overhead-press thing where I lift and lower her. It’s not the toss-and-catch that she normally enjoys, but it still works to calm her down, with her unhappy ‘uhhhaaahhhwwwwaaahhh’ morphing into a happy ‘uhhhaaahhhwwwwaaahhh’ somewhere around the fifth lift. Only when I executed it last night, the eighth lift produced a lovely gift: a perfect stream of mucous, straight from her right nostril into my left eye. With Ryan as my witness.