The kid’s new favorite game is what I affectionately refer to as “Maul Mommy.” When we play this game, Punkie laughs and laughs and laughs and my heart swells. But it sure isn’t pretty and it’s occasionally kind of gross.
First, I lay down on the floor on my back. The first time I did this, it was because my back hurt from hauling a(n adorable) baby with a giant head all over the house. But Punkie is an opportunist and he pounced.
Then, Punkie laughs and screeches and crawls over to me. He pulls himself up onto his knees and wipes his face all over my clean shirt, laughing all the while. He then moves up towards my head and grabs my nose with a ninja grip, sometimes using his finger nails to dig in. After that, it’s a free-for-all. I have a baby laying across my face, laughing and kicking, and putting his open mouth on my ear (wet willy, anyone), over my nose, and on my mouth. He pulls my hair and pokes his fingers into my eyes. I’ve never heard anyone laugh that much.
That’s not the gross part. You ask, how could that not be the gross part? Actually, that part is fun because he enjoys it so much and it tickles and he’s a funny little guy. The gross part is that I think he basically french kissed me during last night’s game of Maul Mommy. I’m sure he has no idea what that means or why one might object to it, but it happened. I hope Child Protective Services doesn’t take him away.