Yes, me. Speechless. If you know The Mama in real life, then you know this is very nearly impossible. I typically have 100 words to get out for every 10 that are actually needed. But not today. Oh no, today I had no words.
While The Kidling and I sat in the waiting room at the chiropractor this evening, we reviewed some word endings. This week, her class is spending some time focusing on -ck endings, so we played a bit of a guessing game. I gave her clues, and she replied. It looked something like this:
“What do you put your groceries in?”
“A bag… No… A sack!”
“Where do you put your folders after school?”
“What do you do with a sucker?”
“What was your tricky spelling word last week that ended in -ck?”
Think you know where this is headed? So did I. Until…
“What do you say to someone who is picking her nose?”
Um… Well… I was sort of thinking… Ick. Ick, Kidling.
The Mama: Don’t pick your nose. Do you need a tissue?
The Kidling: I’m not picking my nose; I’m just touching my boogers.
When one takes the plunge and decides to procreate, there are certain things one anticipates saying at some point in the near future. “Don’t pick your nose” almost certainly tops that list for the vast majority of breeders. Less expected utterings from The Mama have included:
“Don’t bite your toenails!”
“No, let me wipe your butt.”
“Don’t lose your underwear.”
“Leave your labia alone.”
I sense another post of this title in the not-so-distant future.
Oh, Alice. Sweet, gross Alice.
Wednesday evening we were getting Alice ready for bed. At that moment between finishing getting her into her pajamas and choosing her bedtime story, The Kidling stuck her index finger up into that tiny little nostril of hers and extracted a booger. Her eyes, gleaming mischievously, didn’t leave my face for a moment as she placed that slimy booger into her mouth.
I was being provoked, dear readers. Provoke The Mama and she gives you… exactly what you want.
“Alice,” I admonished, “Don’t eat your boogers!”
She gave us a sly smile and stuck her finger back into that wee nostril. Then she smeared whatever she extracted onto that perfect little mouth of hers before declaring, “I’m lipsticking me!”
I wish I could say I kept a straight face and ignored this little bit of nastiness, but that would be a lie. No, The Mama giggled. And giggled, and giggled, and giggled. Once I finished giggling, I cracked up. The Dada looked at me disapprovingly, and I can’t say I blame him.
I do believe we will be seeing more of this repulsive primping.
The Family has had an array of colds, coughs, allergies, and sniffles these past few weeks. Alice, not being particularly fond of tissues, has taken up nose-picking. Again. With a vengeance.
I turned my head the other evening to find an index finger jammed up in her right nostril. Keeping a straight face (and passing no judgment), I asked,
The Mama: Do you need a tissue?
Alice: No. I keep picking part of my nose off sometimes.
The Mama: That’s not your nose. Those are boogers, Alice.
Alice: (visibly recoils and makes a sound of utter surprise) ?!?
She gets a pass on that one. I guess you wouldn’t need a tissue if you were simply pulling body parts off your face.
Okay, I’ll bite.
I saw on The Daily Post that the weekly photo challenge theme was friendship. I don’t do a lot of picture posting, so I typically don’t think much about these. This time, though, they posted a darling image of three happy boys and I thought about my girl.
You might recall that The Kidling has a cousin named The Kidd-o who is her dearest friend. They have an intense love/be-mean-to-one-another relationship. They are too innocent to call it love/hate, but there is something somewhat sisterly about it all. Anyway, the girls get really worked up when they are together, and I remembered this hilarious episode from two years back that I was fortunate to catch on camera.
Have I ever mentioned that The Kidling picks her nose? I have? Well, it ain’t a new thing. Nose-picking circa 2010.
Also, have you ever seen someone look so cute whilst doing something so gross? I most certainly have not.
Oh, friendship. What started as The Kidling digging around in her pint-sized proboscis lead to a proboscis-picking party. Pictured, from L to R, The Kidling and The Kidd-o.
And as you all know, where there is a booger, there is a snack. Note that The Kidd-o knows better. Her parents must feed her well.
“Every once in a while I have a booger for a snack.”
-Alice Munchkin Kidling
May 4, 2012
This isn’t my first post about boogers (see here, here, and here ) and I’m sure it won’t be the last…
While driving on a recent afternoon, I looked in my rearview mirror to see my little munchkin munchin’ on a booger. Like any good mama would, I told her to stop immediately. So what did Alice do? She took it out of her mouth and attempted to hand it to me.
Don’t ever say my life isn’t glamorous.
I told Alice “no thank you” but not for the reason you might assume. Oh no, I told her I was too busy driving to take it right then. As if there is ever a good time to take a four-year-old’s slobbery booger. Remember that bit? About my glamorous life? No? Neither do I. Because it just isn’t true.
Eventually traffic calmed enough for me to reach back and take the booger. Really. Then I rounded a corner and had to hold it there on my hand until I could safely dispose of it. This, of course, got Alice to thinking. Always the optimist, Alice noted, “It’s a good thing it’s a sticky booger because that way it will stick on to your hand until you are ready.”
There is no such thing as ready, Alice. Not for that.