On the way to school, she sort of sneezed and, well, let’s just say, the evidence was there between her nose and lip. A bit gross, fine, but it’s human.
Her – “Uh… Daddy. I… need a tissue.”
Me – “Oh… uh…”
I looked around quickly, checked the compartment between the seat. Maybe her lunch box napkin? Darn, I forgot that. I quickly took a piece of paper I use for lunch box notes and crumpled it up to soften it.
Me – “Here. It’s not great, but it’s a start.”
She grabbed it and gave it a go. Not very effective.
I looked around for clothing that she had left behind from prior trips. Darn. The one time I want a messy car, and it’s clean! Wait. I could use…
Took off my shoe and peeled off the sock from my left foot.
Me – “Here.”
She looked at me a bit confused sort of chuckled and then took it.
Me – “Go for it. Blow into it. It’s clean. I just showered. I just put it on.”
She cleared her nose and face.
Me – “Better?”
Her – “Much better!”
After dropping her off, I stopped at the grocery store and shopped with one sock. Nobody seemed to notice. Still, should you, at some point in your journey, see someone with only one sock, don’t judge. They may have just been a sock hero.
Well, sock hero or not, add it to the list of things you only learn growing up with a Daddy. God only knows what I would have come up with if I had been wearing sandals.