Noah’s baby brother is going on a month old now. Man, time has flown.
It takes me back to the first days of Noah. His mom and I used to freak out about every little germ, we’d worry about who was coming over and whether or not they’d had a single sniffle in the past six years, and we’d make everybody scrub down and swish their mouths out with hand sanitizer before they could get anywhere near us or our kid.
Well, now we’re divorced. We’re co-parents. Which means that Noah is at my house half the time and he’s at her house half the time. Which means that mud, and goober, and leftover food, and especially microscopic invaders love to latch onto that kid and travel from one house to the next.
Well, that’s usually not that big a deal except:
A) Noah has a new baby brother over at his other house. And,
B) For the past week, I’ve been sicker than I have been in years.
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