Tessa and the Brave Little Tissue

This time Tessa tucked the tissue snugly around both nostrils. She sat tall on the rug. Her shoulders dropped. She closed her mouth and gave one slow, gentle blow. Fmmmph. The tissue caught the mess. Tessa blinked. Her nose felt clearer, like a window after rain.

“That one did some work,” Nana said. She pointed to the small bin beside the puzzle table. Tessa pinched the tissue closed. It felt crinkly and damp. She carried it carefully and dropped it in. Plop. “Goodbye, brave little tissue,” said little one Tessa. Nana chuckled. “Now we wash our paws.”

In the little sink by the playroom, Nana turned on warm water. Tessa held her paws under the stream. The water tickled between her soft fingers. Nana gave one small pump of soap. “Rub all around,” she said. Bubbles grew like tiny clouds. Tessa sniffed. Her nose was quieter now.

Tessa dried her paws on a soft towel and padded back to the puzzle table. The rain tapped the window. She picked up a blue puzzle piece shaped like sky. Then her nose gave a tiny tickle. Tessa froze with the piece in her paw. “Oh,” she said. “I feel it coming.”

Without thinking, Tessa rubbed under her nose with the back of her paw. It felt wet right away. A shiny mark stayed on her fur. The puzzle piece felt a little sticky too. Tessa looked at it and made a small face. Nana did not scold. She only held out a fresh tissue.

Tessa took the tissue. This time she wrapped it around her nose before the drip could wander. She sat tall again, closed her mouth, and blew a small nose wind. Fmmm. The tissue crinkled softly. “That was gentler,” Nana said. Tessa smiled behind the white square. “And less sticky.”

Tessa pinched the tissue closed and carried it to the bin. Plop. Then she washed her paws again, quicker this time, with bubbly fingers and a careful rinse. When she came back, Nana wiped the puzzle piece with a damp cloth. “Now the sky piece can fit,” Tessa said, pressing it in place.

The puzzle sky spread wider and wider. Outside, rain made silver lines on the window. Tessa’s nose felt cloudy again, not drippy yet, just full. She touched her hoodie sleeve, then stopped. “I remember, little one,” she whispered. “Sleeves are not for nose clouds.” Nana nodded. “What could help?”

Tessa pulled one tissue from the box. It was soft and light, like a tiny tent. She placed it over her nose, but one corner flopped over her eye. “Oops,” she giggled. Nana helped her fold it lower. “Now your eyes can watch the puzzle, and your nose can blow.”

Tessa sat tall on her cushion. She closed her mouth and gave a little blow into the tissue. Fmmm. Not too hard. Not too fast. The stuffy feeling moved out with a soft crinkle. Tessa blinked. “My nose has more room,” she said. Nana smiled. “You listened to it.”

Tessa folded the tissue closed, keeping the damp part tucked inside. She carried it with careful paws to the bin. Plop. Then she went to the little sink. Warm water ran over her fingers. Soap bubbles slipped and popped. “Clean paws for puzzle paws,” Tessa said, rubbing all around.

Back at the table, Tessa picked up the last blue piece. Her paws were dry. Her nose was quiet. The piece clicked into place, making a bright rainy-day sky. “I did it,” said Tessa. Nana gave her a soft cuddle. “Yes, little one. You helped your nose, and your paws stayed clean.”