Andy and Everyone, Sitting in a Tree!

Andy has become quite the kissing machine. I used to have to prompt him to give me or Chris kisses, or his grandparents or aunts, but now he kisses willingly and without instruction. "Tell grandpa good-bye," I told him on Sunday, and he walked up to his grandfather and gave him a hug and a peck on the cheek, all on his own accord. The adults in the room just about melted.

Andy is especially very free with the kisses when it comes to Mommy, and over the past couple weeks, I have been surprised, repeatedly, with random kisses during random times. Last night, he stood up in the bath, but before I could chastise him for standing, he leaned over, kissed my chin, and then sat back down. Later, when we were reading his bed time story, he turned to me halfway through that book about the llama who starts school and misses his mama (that llama is such a wuss), took my face in my hands, and planted a big old juicy kiss right near my mouth. Sometimes when we are on the floor playing, Andy stops, climbs into my lap, and kisses me sweetly on the cheek as if to say, "Hey. Thanks for helping me with this puzzle, and for all the cheese crackers." I always get a kiss when I pick him up from day care, and Andy's many kisses are the highlights of my day. Even on those days when his mouth smells like an unwashed cavern of old banana and the funk of sleep.

I've noticed, though, that it's not just Mommy and Daddy and Family that earn Andy's kisses. Andy kisses his friends at day care quite a bit, from what I can gather during the thirteen and a half minutes per week that I spend there during pick-up or drop-off times. He and his day care BFF, Bobby, seem to exchange quite the large number of mouth kisses. Since I'm obviously not there all day to observe, I've often wondered exactly how much kissing Andy's getting in at day care, with Bobby, with the rest of the toddlers, with the teachers, that creepy looking janitor with the lazy eye, etc. Is it a manageable number of kisses- just a few friendly pecks here and there? Or is Andy spending the better part of his day care time just kissing away without discretion? Is that why he got so sick a couple weeks ago? Is indiscriminate kissing the source of that mysterious cold sore that popped up on his lip some time ago? I just don't know.

I did, however, get a peek into the kissing world of Andy Berger a couple weeks ago, when we drove down to the Oak Lawn Children's Museum for the day. Quick tip for the parent taking their child to this museum: It's located right next door to a Smash Burger, so go hungry. Second quick tip: Don't bother with the pocket sized thing of Purell, you're really going to want to bring one of those gallon-sized refills to keep handy. And maybe a face mask and recent print-out of your health insurance benefits. However, it's a great museum at a great price, and Andy had a freaking ball.

Did someone say Smash Burger?

Number of hours we spent at the museum: under two. Number of strange kids kissed by Andy during those hours: four that I counted.

He kissed at least one kid by way of apology after running into the tot and knocking him down. He kissed a little girl he crossed paths with, and the mother cooed, "Wow! That's her first kiss!" To which I muttered, "Wish I could say the same thing about stud over there."

He kissed the two other kids just because. And I have to admit, I did spend some alone time in the restroom and in the kiddie grocery store (excellent selection, good coupon policy), so who knows how many other victims fell prey to the loving tenderness of Andrew B.

This is all very sweet, and I'm very pleased that I have such an adorable little kisser on my hands. That being said, I am starting to wonder if maybe I need to sit Andy down and have a discussion with him about the birds and the bees and how the birds and the bees should at least know each other's names and interests before they engage in any sort of kissing. Perhaps Andy's innocence needs to be tempered just a little so that he doesn't grow up into a gigolo, a mimbo, a man so free with his attention and saliva that some of the ladies swoon, some of the ladies are appalled by his forwardness, and still other ladies simply come down with the latest communicable disease in fashion.

This is the kind of motherly problem that picks mildly at me in the night, but I know that sitting Andy down to discuss this issue is not a realistic way to get anything solved. Mainly because Andy doesn't sit still for very long, and the amount of time we DID spend sitting would just result in some Andy-Mommy kissing.

So, until Andy grows a little more, loses a little of his wide-eyed, open mouthed wonder, I have just a small piece of advice for all parents of toddlers everywhere. If you see us coming your way, even if we've never met, be prepared. Andy's about to make out with your kid. And you. And your tax accountant.