My husband's love for his children makes me sick.

As all of you know I am living in a constant state of home improvement. Because of the unending nature of the living room painting project, I have gotten into the bad habit of leaving all sorts of adhesives and paint, etc. laying about...out of reach of little hands but accessible at a moment's notice to me.

Last night after dinner, the kids were in the living room and B and I remained in the kitchen chatting for a while. After a few minutes New Baby ran back into the kitchen with a mouth full of something and spit it on the floor. It was white-ish in color and smooth in consistency.

Alarmed at what she may have ingested, I ran to the living room to see if she's managed to get ahold of any of the toxic chemicals I have stored there. Nothing seemed amiss, all the paint cans, etc, sealed up. I returned to the kitchen and wiped up the spit up with a paper towel, assuring the father of my children that everything was OK, she hadn't swallowed paint or glue. I stood there with the disgusting sputum covered towel in hand, about to throw it away, when my Doubting Thomas of a husband rushed over, swiped a figure through the mystery substance and TASTED it. "I had to be sure." he said.

It turns out that New Baby had squirrelled some cheese sauce from her dinner in her cheeks and had been holding it there for a while before presenting us with it.

As you might expect, I had no choice but to retch. This may be one of the most horrifying things I've seen anyone do.

I think I need to be sick again. Goodbye.