After a bunch of late nights this week, I woke up this morning feeling sick and gross and all-around blah.

Naturally, I completely wigged out about the dangers of being sick around L. Panic reached a fever pitch this afternoon, when I found literature from our doctors that included one of the most untenable suggestions ever: “If at all possible, avoid kissing your baby on the face or hands.”

I truthfully think it’d be easier to eat rabbit eyeballs.

Every hour of every waking day, pretty much all I want to do is smooch my little girl. Now, due to a sore throat and a light sniffle, I must refrain?

For her sake, I tried to resist this evening. Every time she did something that merited a kiss (basically, this includes most of the things she does), I forced myself to smooch her feet or belly instead of her little cheeks. Every time she tried to stick her fingers near my face or nose, I caught them and playfully turned them away.

Even when she was at her cutest, conducting an imaginary orchestra with her spoon during dinner (sweet potatoes, in case you’re interested), I somehow managed to hold back my onslaught of smooches, opting instead for a laugh and a gentle tousle of her hair.

By the end of the night, she totally knew something was up. Before bed, she kept bonking her face into mine, as if to say, “Kiss me, Daddy.”

I couldn’t hold back any longer. I stole a kiss.

I know, I know: It was a selfish smooch. And yes, if the baby ends up getting sick I’m single-handedly responsible. But this whole “avoid kissing [them]” thing is ridiculous! Over the course of her little life, we’re all bound to get sick too frequently to abstain completely. There are just some things we parents should never have to give up.