October 9th, 2007

I Have Boogers In My Nose

When I signed up for the “mom thing,” I surely didn’t imagine I’d be growing out my pinkie fingernail for the sole purpose of working as a booger excavator. Not my own, but NaNa’s and Bear’s. Is it bad that I get satisfaction from chiseling out a whopper of a boog?

My girls even differ in their willingness to be groomed. Bear screams and wriggles when I try to change her diaper, fix her hair, put on her shoes, get her dressed, wipe her face, or dig out boogers.

NaNa, on the other hand, will come to me very politely and say, “Mama, I have boogers in my nose.” That’s my cue to put down everything and focus. Focus on the task at hand.

Spelunking into the nasal cavity of a toddler.

I tilt her head back, get the light in juuuust right, and see what is up there to be excavated. I put my extra long pinkie nail into action, and remove that pesky booger.

Oh, the satisfaction of the adventuresome joys of motherhood.

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