...a tissue. I realize that I am easier to spot and generally in closer proximity to you than a box of tissues. But seriously - EEEW! I am you Mother, I am not a tissue! I have enough trouble keeping my shirts clean on my own. I do not need your assistance.
I am guilty of offering my clothing to my son on numerous occasions in order to prevent a panicky screaming tantrum bc my OCD son has a tiny bit of wetness on the end of his nose. "It's ok, my boy. It's ok! Here. Wipe it on my shirt. There. See? All better."
ReplyDelete