I was sitting next to Cleo, my mother-in-law, in church on Sunday. With her head bowed, she dabbed her nose with a tissue and sniffled. I whispered to her, “Are you okay?”
“Oh, I’m just all choked up,” she said as she fanned her face with her hand.
I imagined that she was overcome with emotion to be surrounded by her family, to have her grandson sitting on her lap feeding her goldfish.
So I nodded at her and patted her arm in a knowing and loving gesture. I understood.
Then she leaned over and said, “Allergies. I’ve got a head full of snot.”
Allergies and love — apparently both come wrapped in snot.