Day 180.

There will be a day when my 2 year old son falls down and gets hurt, and I can't make it better. Uggghhh. I don't even want to think about that...he's such a smoochable, loveable squishy little guy.

I am grateful for kiss and make it better.

Today while I was sitting on the toilet (sorry, this is my story), Noah was trying to get up on the barstool in the next room and he fell off (barely). I could hear the commotion and then hear him start to cry (with a slight fakeness to it I need to add). I called him in to the bathroom for some comfort and he came in, half whining, half crying.

Me: What happened?
Noah: I try to climb up on the barstool and I falling down. (Crying, half-fake crying)
Me: Oh, ouchy, where does it hurt? Do you want me to kiss it?
Noah: Yes.
Me: Where should I kiss?
Noah: Kiss your cheek.

So, I thought he meant "Kiss MY cheek," as in "I hurt my cheek."
I leaned down to kiss him on the cheek, just as he turned and tried to kiss my cheek. It was like an awkward first date kiss where you aren't sure if you are kissing cheek to cheek or lips (except it was my 2 year old son, so it wasn't awkward). And we ended up kissing each other on the lips. Oops. I figured it out this time, and turned my cheek toward him so he could kiss MY cheek.

Somehow, that made things better.