I love boogers. There is nothing so satisfying as honking out a big, green, sticky booger. You know you think so, even if you won't admit it. That's okay, you don't have to fess up to me. Just never, ever try to deceive yourself. That's your unsolicited advice for today from Stories from Korea. The only thing that even comes close to the BSQ (Booger Satisfaction Quotient) is ripping off a big crusty scab that's starting to flake around the edges but still has a good grip on the interior. You know what I'm talking about.
On to my booger problem: I think we've established that I have a pretty good handle on my own boogers. The boogers in question are Weston's. He has a snootful of thick, clingy, green boogers sticking to both nostrils. There is no picture; you're welcome. He is not able to blow them out, and he won't let me touch them. I can't stand it; they are RIGHT THERE on the edge, just begging to be yanked out. I have tried EVERYTHING: kleenex, a warm wet washcloth, the baby booger sucker. I have tried to pry them out while he's sleeping. I have had conversations with the boogers:
Me (in high-pitched singsong voice): We love being in Weston's nose. We're having a booger party! We don't want to come out!
Weston (shouting): NO! We hate you, you ugly boogers! You're mean and not cute! We're going to get you out right now!
He is then willing to have me try to get them out, in an attempt to ruin the boogers' fun, but they're stuck to his skin and don't readily come off, and we're back to square one. Yes, I am tempted to hold him down and rip them out by force. Very tempted. But I won't. His body belongs to him, boogers and all, and I respect his right to decide what is done with it or to it. But I'm not giving up the blogging rights; my respect only goes so far. If the boogers were life-threatening, it would be a different story, but so far the only negative consequence is my child-induced humiliation. And I'm no stranger to shame.
So if I see you on the street or in the store, and I start the conversation with, 'HiHowareyou. Yeah,wehavecoldsI'vetriedeverythingtogetWeston'snoseclean,whatcanyoudo,' you'll know that what I really mean is: Please don't think I'm a bad mom and tell the next ten people you see about my kid's gross nose, thanks.
And, to the boogers I say: Live long and prosper, my friends.
Happy Father (Figure) Day!
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