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How Are We Parents?

So, Ian takes Flonase every day to help him breathe better. And also to help with the bear-like snoring.

Ian: “So the Flonase is definitely working.”
Me: “Yeah, I’ve noticed, your snoring is so much better!”
Ian: “Yeah, but I sort of wish I couldn’t smell most smells.”
Me: “Me?”
Ian, laughing: “No, but there was this guy in Target with terrible b.o. And some people’s breath. I could do without that.”


Me: “I think that would be the sense I’d give up first, smell. Then probably taste, since they’re kind of linked, you know?”
Ian: “Yeah….”
Me: “And then probably touch? Though that’d be tough. And then hearing, then sight. But ideally, I’d like to keep them all.”
Ian: “That’s a given.”


Ian: “Yeah, I think for sure I’d give up smell, then taste. But touch is tough. I mean, what if I lit myself on fire and I didn’t have a sense of touch so I didn’t know?”
Me: “Um, first of all, you’d probably know if you lit yourself on fire, even if you couldn’t feel it. Second, you didn’t lose your other senses – you’d see the fire, smell your skin burning.”
Ian: “I don’t know.”
Me: “Um, I know. And also, that’s a weird reason to want to keep your sense of touch, just in case. I mean, touching Rauri, yes, I’d miss that every day. But worrying about lighting myself on fire?”
Ian: “I’m just saying. But yeah, I guess it’d be touch. And I’d just have to take that chance.”
Me, laughing: “Wow, I had no idea this was such a high risk for you, good to know.”
Ian, turning his back to read,  mumbling: “Living with you is high risk.”

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Nobdy ever said we were the best parents. After being sick for nearly a week and sleeping propped up with a ton of pillows so that my gross face would drain (you’re welcome), I got a kink in my neck.

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