Nose Picking

Boys.  What are you going to do sometimes?  They just ARE boys.  They can't help themselves.  My youngest, the Happy Critter, is exploring some new things lately.  Nose picking in particular.  For the past three years I have picked his nose.  I pick all the kids noses if they let me. 

I usually have wet wipes on hand for the booger I pull from his nostrils.  I haven't exactly made a show of pulling the booger out and putting it in a wipe or tissue; but, that has been the case.  Occasionally, in the absence of a wipe or tissue I wipe the boogers on myself.  I hate to admit that.  It's disgusting, I know that.  You think I don't know that?  I know that.  I am usually somewhat dirty though anyway - so it just works out.  I wipe the booger on my ratty t shirt or my sweaty yoga pants.  Then I wash the clothes like any other normal person.

But lately, since he has begun exploring nose picking for himself he has also begun eating his boogers.  Or attempting it at least.  I've caught him a handful of times taking his finger from his nose and putting it in his mouth.  I explain, as best as one can to a three year old, that its yucky.  No one eats boogers.  No one.  Eating boogers is like eating poop.  We just don't do it.  I haven't actually verbalized the boogers and poop bit because I don't want to give him any ideas.  That is just what I think in my head when I'm saying, "That is gross.  Very yucky!" 

Tuesday, however, we went shopping for some first day of school clothes at the mall.  The Happy Critter and Mister selected several new character t shirts: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Superman, The Justice League.  Both boys got new light up shoes because some marketing genius figured out kids like lights and parents are push overs for kids who like lights.  Though as a side note light up shoes are fun anywhere you go; so it doubles as a practical shoe purchase and a toy.  Win win. 

After making our purchases at JCP we headed back to the car.  Mister can buckle himself.  The Happy Critter is still in a 5 point harness so I helped him to his seat and got him settled.  As I did this I noticed a booger.  I said, "Sir, you have a booger in your nose.  May I get it?"  He replied, "Otay."  I got the booger.  Just as I was about to wipe the booger into a wipe he said, "No Ma.  In my mou."  I said, "Ummm... no.  I am not putting this booger in your mouth.  We do not eat boogers."  He said, "OTTTTTAAAAY!" 

He really thought I would give it to him.  He was miffed that I didn't feed him his own booger.  He looked at me like, "How rude."  Thankfully Mister gave me a supportive look and said, "that was disgusting" and I felt better.  Two out of three kids do not eat their boogers.  I'd call it a success.


It's Like Sputnik

It has been a long standing joke in my family that I have the biggest head out of everyone.  Everyone includes my siblings and their spouses.  The FACTS are ignored year after stinkin' year and jokes will always be made about the size of my gargantuan cranium.   

My head is, in fact, NOT THE BIGGEST HEAD in our family.  We took the time to measure and there were other noggins far greater in circumference than mine.  But I'll be the butt of the joke.  That's fine.  I'll keep laughing at the "down in front" jokes, the So I Married an Ax Murderer references.  I can handle it.  Even though I know (and you know) it isn't the truth.  I can cry myself to sleep on my huge pillow; I can manage my own weather system.  That's fine.

Only thing I'm not loving right now is I'm sitting at the kitchen table eating dinner with my kids.  Out of the blue Mister says, "Mom's head is really big and Dad's is medium."  I looked at my husband who nearly wet himself and gave him the "are you kidding me" look?  What happened there?  Did he pay the child?  Is he whispering these things in his ear while he sleeps.  

Then the child continued.  He put his fork down and used his hands to describe the difference in size.  "Mom's head is like this..." and his hands grew into a gigantic balloon type deal.  Then he said, "But Dad's head is more like..." and his hand grew outward an inch, maybe two.  

My husband, now nearly choking, said, "Honestly, this is good material.  Admit it, the kid is GOOD."  

I replied, "Oh yes, he's a real wise guy."  But what I wanted to say was "Puhlease, the kid doesn't know his ass from his elbow."  


Four Year Old Funny

  Four year old boys think farts are the most hilarious of all things.  Anything that sounds remotely like a fart -the kid is hysterically laughing.  Heinz 57 never had a chance.  Flip flops on a rainy day? Stop It. 

Thankfully I've at least taught my four year old to excuse himself after farting.  The three year old boy just follows suit and laughs then says "I got toooots."  The rest of my life is going to be filled with fart humor; I have come to accept it.  

This morning a true gem fell into Mister's lap.  He and I were sitting in the living room on my mother's rocking chair.  I was drinking coffee and looking at 4th of July happenings on the iPad.  He was talking my ear off about bunny poop as he watched a bunny in the front yard.  Unfortunately, I farted.  I excused myself and he gave me the big eyed "eww gross Mom farted" look, while trying not to smile.  

Then he looked down toward the seat, near my tush.  Oddly, a black craft poof ball was sitting beside my hip.  He lost it.  Hysterical laughter ensued.  I said, "What's so funny?"  He held up the black poof ball.  I said, "Yes?"  He said, "It musta come out your fart!" 



It's come around again: summer.

Yesterday while I drove Mister to his last day of preschool I asked.  "Are you excited it's your last day of school?"

"Nooooo!"  He shouted at me from the way-way back seat.

"Oh! Are you excited for summer vacation?" I tried again.

"Nooooo!" Again.

"Oh! Why? Aren't you happy about some time away from school?"  I reworded the question in hopes of a more positive response.

"Well no.  What if you take me to some stupid house this summer?"  Now we're getting somewhere.

"What do you mean 'some stupid house'?  Do you mean on vacation?"  I asked.

"Yes, I don't even know.  Are you making me move to this house?  If I go to a stupid house I will just walk away from that place."  Mister was under the impression that summer vacation was a destination.  I clarified.

"I am not moving you to a new house this summer.  We will take two trips in our car with our family.  We will swim and ride on a boat.  We will fish and play at the beach."  I thought that cleared it up.

He did not.  "So is this trip today?  We get to go fishing today?"  This is when it occurred to me, 4 year old children do not grasp the concept of a month.  He calls last night "tonight tonight."  He confuses seconds for minutes. Might not be a bad idea to add "teach Mister the concept of a calendar year" to his Summer Bridge ABC's & 123's packet.

About this time I had arrived at his school and he was ready to hop out.  He gave me his extra puckered lips to kiss and said, "love you Mom!" as he hopped out the door.

He is a mind-boggling treasure.  Pure and simple.