“Thank you for letting me pick your nose.” After saying that to 10-month-old Izzy, I realized that self-image and etiquette are no longer a priority. What if my husband, my coworkers, or my friends heard it?! I am kneeling on the floor in PJs in the middle of the day with a flashlight on one hand and a dirty tissue on another, looking up my daughter’s nose as she sat on the couch.
That sticky booger had been peeking out and tempting me all morning. Izzy was still enough to let me pick at it with my thick fingers. After multiple attempts, I ran to the bathroom for the boogie-tweezer (yes, those exist, it’s a plastic tweezer with round tips. “Why not use a Nose Frida?” you ask. It is not as effective…).
While digging in the dark caves of her nose, I hoped that Izzy wouldn’t get fed up with all the mining expeditions.
When the tweezers finally got a hold of that gooey mucus, the booger was clinging on to dear life, until eventually, with a yank, it snapped and out it came. “Does that feel better?” I asked Izzy – probably more a question for myself. It was a successful day.