You have ever picked someone else's nose.
Please tell me this is the only time and reason you have or will ever pick anyone else's nose. No, don't tell me. I do not want to know. I have a bubble that I do not want popped.
We had two little noses that needed attention this week. And that means only one thing, sudden and immediate torture...
by nasal aspirator. A seemingly innocent tool in every prepared mother's arsenal. Innocent until you actually have to use it to fend off all things green and sticky.
I can't use this thing without feeling like I'm going to suck out all sorts of other things with the original offender. Specifically, the brain. An eyeball, maybe. Perhaps some intestines. And I have this feeling Abigail doesn't exactly care for it either. We'll have to chalk it up as a necessary evil. Much like the re*ctal thermometer.
But we won't go there. Remember that bubble I mentioned earlier?
As I've been using this device of nasal torture, I've been wondering what it feels like to be on the recipient's side. But, it scares me. You know, the whole brain sucking thing and all.
So, I leave you with my bubble and brain still intact.
Hey, no comments about the brain. Respect the bubble.