The Hickey

I have a hickey. It's on my cheek. I managed to make it through 28 years of life without one, and now, I have a hickey.

I know what you're thinking, my husband got a little frisky, but no, it was not him. He did not become consumed in a fit of horny teenage passion for me and suck my cheek to show his love...he's not a vampire people! No, this hickey? It came from my son.

I love snuggling up to little Rusty. I am constantly snuggling him up to my face at which point I kiss his little cheeks, neck and nose. I kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss! The other night, I was doing this and little Rusty suddenly turned his face to my cheek! He started "kissing," it repeatedly. I have to admit, it tickled and I was giggling. Yes, I know, normally a nearly 30 year old woman does not giggle, but it really tickled! The more I giggled, the more Rusty kissed! He had a huge grin on his face and was kissing away. Kevin was laughing too, which I think only spurred him on more.

Finally, I pulled him away because my cheek was covered in baby slobber. I gave him one final kiss and proceeded to snuggle with him, later tucking him away sweetly in his bed. As I was readying for bed, I noticed a mark on my cheek. Upon waking the next morning, it was still there, and was a purple/pinkish color. Yep, it was a hickey! My son gave his first hickey at less than 3 months. We'd better keep an eye on this little Cassanova!!