I am in my in-laws' kitchen wiping S.'s nose. I guess it was a paticularly gross, copious, green, end-of-a-cold runny nose, because I turn around to see my sister-in-law M. looking on with apparent horror. She notices me noticing her.
"I guess you don't mind so much when it's your own child," she theorizes.
After she leaves the room, my mother-in-law rolls her eyes at the squeamishness.
"Yes," I laugh in maternal solidarity, "Wait till she has to clean up a crib full of vomit."
My mother-in-law looks at me in confusion.
"I've never had to clean up a crib full of vomit," she says.
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