Dirty animals

I have been known to say, from time to time, that children are awful. Simply put, they are filthy vermin. Where else in nature do we find creatures who are content to stew in their own fecal infested pants? Sure dogs enjoy licking their testicles, but do they also like sucking the snot from their upper lips as it trickles down in salty, green rivulets? I think not. A mother cat grooms her kits before they can maul her, my offspring don’t give a hoot if they paw at me with sticky, germ riddled fingers.
Yes, I am sick. Sick in a way that causes me to hold my hands over my ears when Devon sees fit to yell every single word at the top of his lungs. My ear canals gurgle when I blow my nose. I can’t smell and am losing my taste. I know those rotten kids did this to me. But in the ever so wise words of one Justin TImberlake, what goes around comes around. I can already see signs of weakness in them. The oldest one is beginning to sniffle, the middle one’s vocie is starting to crack and the littles one is enjoying the salty green. And when they go down and I am again healthy? Although I will tend to their snotty noses and sore throats, I will have an inner smirk as I do it. That is the sort of quality mothering that goes on here.