I have my mother’s sneeze.
I have my mother’s sneeze.
It’s a big, satisfying sort of sneeze, high-pitched and assertive, a face-twisting “ehh-echhu!” that usually hits in pairs, not threes.
My nose-blowing is my father’s, a hearty, head-clearing honk that can turn heads. I usually leave a crowded room to blow my nose without disturbing anyone.
The runny nose causing the sneezing and nose-blowing today is neither Mom’s nor Dad’s but the product of my ENT, who tinkered extensively with the inner workings of my schnoz today and reduced me to a mucusy, sneezy mass.
I’m going to go and lay down for a while.