A Colourful Life: Sloppy Toddler Kisses

Leo has developed a new fun post-bath-time habit. 
After freeing himself from his towel, and jumping up and down on the bed 87 times during what is meant to be “calm time”, he will demand that I lie down. 
It does not take much to persuade me to lie down at this time of day, so I happily oblige. For about four seconds I feel rather relaxed. 

Then I don’t anymore. Because there is a person lying directly on top of me. 
Like a plank. I too am a plank. 
We are two planks, one on top of the other. I can’t bring myself to move. 
He looks so happy. He is beaming. 
He is also crushing me slightly. But he’s still small so it’s mainly being kneed in the vagina when he moves. He moves a lot. 

He grabs my face like a person does when they want to kiss you, passionately. And he proceeds to kiss me, passionately. All. Over. My. Face. Pausing often to maintain a slightly unnerving level of eye contact. 

There is saliva everywhere. (His, not mine.) I kiss him back, on the cheek, and keep my mouth firmly closed so as not to risk getting a mouthful of his saliva, which drools out of his mouth as if he’s been storing it for weeks. My cheeks are now sticky from sloppy toddler kisses. 
“Thank you. Thank you Leo.” I say before lovingly dismantling this two-plank arrangement with the old hug and roll.
“GET OFF ME PLEASE THANK YOU.” 

It never works. Seconds later he has resumed prime plank position.