Snot particle ferris wheel

Lyla has a terrible cough, possibly due to her secret unending love of cigars. "But I don't inhale, Dad." Sure you don't, kiddo. Sure you don't.

It's the worst at night when her horizontal sleeping position allows gravity to pull her snot into her throat's most ticklish spot. Then she coughs, shooting snot particles upward from her mouth, where they arc parabolically before plummeting into her nostrils again, and the cycle continues. Come over and watch; it's like her head is powering a turbo-speed snot particle ferris wheel.

And so now, just shy of 22 months old, Lyla is still not quite allowed to take decongestants. I don't know why; I think it's some backroom deal where the decongestant companies get a cut of the profits from all the extra coffee I have to drink just to appear alive.

Of course, now an ear infection is a foregone conclusion. Maybe Lyla will end up with tubes, which I've never quite understood. "Oh, just get tubes put in her. My kids all had tubes. Tubes tubes tubes." Is there a do-it-yourself tubes kit? Can you rig the tubes so they drain into little cups taped to the outside of Lyla's shirt? That'll impress the kids at school.