Germs bother me. I wash my hands constantly, use bottles and bottles of hand sanitizer and avoid touching most communal items like door handles with my bare hands.

It doesn’t matter though, because I have small children who go to school. Their dirty, nasty hands touch everything in my house, and I never have enough Clorox wipes to clean everything.

Even still, as a germaphobe, I force my three older children to follow a strict “disinfection” regimen every time they reenter the house after school and preschool activities. And when one of them gets sick, I nag them religiously about keeping their germs to themselves.

“Sneeze into your arm or I will spray you with the hose!”

Okay, my declarations aren’t that extreme, but it’s close.

Again, none of this matters, because I also have a two-year-old in the house. This little guy doesn’t care about hygiene. He drinks out of any water cup he can reach. If he wants to snuggle up on one of his siblings, there’s no stopping him. He’s a stealthy little guy too, so I’m not always there to stop him from licking his sister’s snot rag.

If the two-year-old gets sick, everyone gets sick. Unless we’ve already built up some immunity to whatever virus he catches, my wife and I can expect our own sore throats, stuffy noses or “digestive issues” in the coming days.

It’s not just because he won’t cover his cough. I mean, yes, he will sneeze directly into your mouth if you get too close to him, but it’s the Toddler Cuddle that spreads the disease.

In my experience, every little kid reaches a point where he no longer wants to be snuggled by his parents. You can cradle a baby for hours because they can’t escape. Once they’re walking and running, little kids tend to wiggle out of any extended hug or snuggle situation. Our youngest is a particularly wily fella. He won’t sit on my lap unless I bribe him with an episode “Paw Patrol.”

Sick little kids, however, demand mom and dad snuggles, and since we don’t have babies in the house anymore, I take every opportunity to snuggle my youngest, even if it means he’s blasting snot bubbles on me at three in the morning.

Any kind of discomfort at night, be it a stuffy nose, sore throat or rumbly tummy, will also result in our two-year-old sleeping in our bed. This is not the same as Sick Toddler Cuddles. No matter how many times we readjust him, he sleeps sideways and kicks me in the face. Over and over again. He can be a real jerk when he’s half-asleep, flailing his limbs about as if he’s suffering from demonic possession.

By the time his sleep routine returns to normal, the virus has usually already invaded my exhausted, underslept body. More tossing and turning, and by the time I feel better, the older kids bring the next vile disease home from school.

Then the routine begins again:

Avoid. Sanitize. Make poor hygiene decisions because you can’t stand the idea of your baby boy growing up and not needing you anymore. Infection. Suffer. Repeat.