Tyler jumped out of the pool to throw up into my hand. And I caught it.
Yesterday, Tucker had too much hot dog in his mouth. He spit it out into my hand. And I caught it.
I believe this is a unique maternal ability, born along with the child. The fact that I am capable and willing to open my palm to what may come.
And all I seem to say is, "Oh, man, oh, buddy. What is this? What's happening?"
And then I wash my hands.
I wonder if this unflappable instinct will always be present. I wonder if I will always catch first, ask later.
Motherhood confounds me.