There's a lot of moisture in my life these days. Water, drool, breastmilk, spit up, and mystery have all become commonplace on or near me. I might find a mystery wet patch on my knee or step in a small puddle of *something.* Either way, it's strange and unpleasant, but I've learned to accept it. I reconcile it by hoping and longing for drier days. Ironically, I'm sure that when that one day comes, I'll miss the wet patch on my knee.
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