There are so many things about parenthood that are out right disgusting. Vaginal tearing anyone? Awful. Spray poop? Gross. Projectile vomiting? Yikes. Bean is two and half. I should have seen it all by now. I haven't. When I went to get Bean from her non-existent nap, I saw a booger line next to her crib. What is a booger line? Well, it seems that my dear little Bean has been diligently picking her nose and than meticulously applying them to the wall next to her crib in an orderly line. Should I be proud that she lined them up? That must say something about her developing brain, right?
Maybe this is my own doing. Maybe Bean remembers her infant days when I spent hours sucking out her boogers. I named this blog after my penchant for picking Bean's tiny little infant nose after all...did I do this? Did I inadvertently lay the groundwork for Bean's proclivity for nose picking? I use tissues. I've showed Bean how to use tissues, and yet my little miscreant prefers picking.
Often when I'm driving, I'll hear "Momma! I have a boogie. I'm going to save it for you!" And sure enough, when we arrive at our destination, Bean has her pointer finger extended with a big fat boogie on it which she then proudly gives to me. I tell her again and again to use a tissue but in her little mind, her digits are perfect little pickers.
I just hope this isn't symptomatic of a larger problem. I don't want her to be that weird kid on the playground that picks her boogers and eats them. Everyone remembers that kid from grade school with a mixture of sadness and disgust. Please don't be that weird kid. Maybe I should be grateful that's she's lining them up. Surely, that's a sign of intelligence, right? Maybe she'll excel at geometry? Maybe I should just be grateful that she's not eating the boogers...at least, not yet.