Nose Pickin'

When I was putting Mac down tonight, one of his reasons for me to come back into his room was that "he had a booger that wouldn't come out". I got him to blow his nose and, of course, absolutely nothing came out. Except maybe a little dust. It was THAT dry.

Fast forward half an hour later. I am sitting on the couch catching up on last night's episode of Rookie Blues when I hear the telltale click that signifies he has opened his bedroom door, followed by the thump thump thump of little feet coming upstairs. *Bear in mind here that he was told that if he left his bedroom again tonight he would be disciplined*. As he's coming up the stairs, he's saying something I can't quite make out over the TV.

NOTE: AS I'M SITTING HERE WRITING THIS HE JUST CAME BACK UPSTAIRS. AGAIN!!! FOR THE LOVE OF PETE!!!

As he walks into the living room and approaches the couch where I'm sitting, he is holding his finger out to me.

"Momma, I found my booger!"

That's right. He'd been picking his nose for half an hour trying to dig out a booger so that he would have a (in his mind) legitimate reason to come back upstairs.

Oh yeah, and that was fifteen minutes ago. When he just came back upstairs?? He had ANOTHER piece of snot.

Hooray.
2 comments

Popular Posts