That’s right, families who sinus rinse together stay together. This is primarily because sinus rinsing is so intrinsically disgusting that nobody else wants to hang out with you when you do it. I’ve seen the babysitters faces when they see us sinus rinse. They never want to come back. So sinus rinsers stick together so we won’t be alone.
What is a sinus rinse, you say? Ah, you naive non-allergic, non-nasty-Colorado-winter-cold simpleton you — I envy you. A sinus rinse is basically a little plastic bottle of water and some salty tasting mix that you are supposed to shove up your nose and squeeze hard until the water (and all the snotty guck that’s stuck in your sinuses) comes out of the other side of your nose and your mouth. Spit, wipe your face, repeat. That’s it. It’s lovely. The doctor has commanded that we do this after our fifth — FIFTH! — cold of the winter season.
It really is nasty and it really does work. It clears you up good for a while. My girls are troopers. Let’s be honest, sinus rinsing sucks, but they do it — even my three year old. She likes it when we do it together and trade off. She doesn’t enjoy the process much, because she’s sane, but she likes trading turns and the joy of conquering a difficult task. And my five year old is quite possibly the World’s Greatest Sinus Rinser, a title she wears with great pride, which is nice, because probably nobody else would. I love her so much for this. “Daddy, look! It’s coming out the other side of my nose! Look at all the mucus I’m getting!”
Ah, the beautiful words only a father would love you for. And I really do love her for them, too. She is such a good girl. Anyway, anytime your family would like to come over to our bathroom for a sinus rinse playdate, give us a buzz. We won’t stay up waiting for the phone to ring.