I wouldn't even hold my kids sometimes because I didn't want them to spit up on me when I was dressed for an awards show.
I used to do the beat box. A friend of mine, he was the rapper and after, we'd be doing a block party or something or a house party, and he's gettin' all the attention and I'd end up with a handful of spit, you know, from doing the beats.
Now, if someone wants to spit on me, I just roll up the window of my BMW 540i.
Did you know babies are nauseated by the smell of a clean shirt? You put on something from the cleaners, they're gonna spit up just like that. My wardrobe looks like we have condors living in our yard.
The realities of getting up in the morning with two children and being covered in spit-up and totally filthy make me excited to imagine clothes that aren't made for baby puke. Dressing nicely is a dream now.
People often ask me, "What's the difference between couplehood and babyhood?" In a word? Moisture. Everything in my life is now more moist. Between your spittle, your diapers, your spit-up and drool, you got your baby food, your wipes, your formula, your leaky bottles, sweaty baby backs, and numerous other untraceable sources-all creating an ever-present moistness in my life, which heretofore was mainly dry.
I remember one day I was kissing Mason and he spit up in my mouth and I loved it.
Babies on television never spit up on the Ultrasuede.
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