Thursday, January 14, 2010

TMI Thursday: You can pick your friends, but you can't pick your family, so can you pick your family's nose? What's that saying again?

TMI Thursday

OK, folks, time for another TMI Thursday. Click the picture above to read more awesomely cringe-worthy TMIs courtesy of LiLu at

Denver is a very dry city.

I don't mean that it has a subtle sense of humor. I mean that most of the time, the air is utterly devoid of any moisture, particularly in the winter.

Resulting in lots and lots of boogers. And opportunities for nose picking.

While I certainly don't walk around in public with my finger up my nose, the fact is, the combination of altitude and dryness make my nose a ripe breeding ground for massive boogie boulders the size of California raisins. Sometimes they can be removed with a powerful honk into a tissue or handkerchief. But other times they're just stuck, requiring some manual excavation. It can't be helped.

Let's just say that I'm sympathetic when it comes to nose-picking, especially in this climate.

Anyway, Jason and I have differing views on this, I guess. We've never really discussed it, but he seems a bit more critical of people (read: me) who overtly pick their noses, whereas I tend to give people more of a pass. So it's become a (minor) issue in the area of child-rearing.

We have a very firm policy of always backing each other up when it comes to decisions involving the children, particularly disciplinary issues. We don't argue in front of the children and we don't undermine each other's efforts at discipline. If I disagree with something he's done, I'll bring it up with him privately, but Zeke knows there is no point in appealing to me if he doesn't like something Daddy has told him, because he won't get a different answer.

When it comes to nose-picking, Zeke, like most 2-year-olds discovering the wonders of having fingers that can poke into things, spends half of his time with his finger in his nose, particularly now that it's winter. This drives Jason crazy, so Jason is constantly telling him to get his finger out of his nose and to get boogies out by blowing his nose or using a tissue.

And I'm nodding and smiling, but I never say a word, because secretly I'm thinking, "the kid doesn't know how to blow his nose. I've tried to show him, but he's just not quite there yet. He can't help it. He's got boogies! Having boogies sucks."

So while outwardly I say nothing to contradict Jason's instructions, inwardly I'm trying to beam my brain waves into Zeke's head, so he understands that my position is, "I feel you, dawg. Those boogies aren't gonna pick themselves. Let me know if you need help."

1 comment:

  1. Ha! Fred and I are the same, with me falling into the "get your boogies" camp like you. But like you and Jason, we try to align with each other. But dude! Sometimes you gotta go diggin'.