Poor little Calder has come down with a massive case of the boogeys. This cold is so fierce, it would be difficult not to feel bad for him. He is listless and clingy, exhausted from the constant bouts of moist, chesty coughing. Calder's button nose is a faucet of snot. Trying to staunch the flow is as pointless as trying to beat back the tides. Perhaps worse, it's all endless flow. No ebb. Frequently Calder presents me with a meaty green booger that he has fished out to relieve some of the pressure, which he then proceeds to eat before my horrified eyes.
And his eyes. Calder's sad little red-rimmed, puffy eyes. Gooey, yet runny. Although he doesn't quite have the vocabulary to express his current suffering and discomfort, those eyes say it all. They say, "Mommy, I feel like shit."