So I’m sitting alone in our car on Saturday, waiting for untitledhusband and his family to come out of the madness that is the Kohl’s annual Christmas sale, when I feel a tickle of sorts in my nose. It’s the kind of sensation that can only be brought on by a lodged booger — one that must be freed from it nasal shackles before any sense of relief can be experienced.
Sure, I had the mom-pack of Kleenex in my purse. Sure, there was a jug of wet wipes in the back seat. But relinquishing its beastly size and striking chartreuse color to such shameful confines would have been a travesty. This majestic boog, which I had named Bruce Banner, had been incubating in the upper catacombs of my nostril for what had to have been at least a half-day, and by god, he deserved to see the light of day. He had earned the right to breathe the sweet December air, if only for a few seconds before succombing to an untimely death at the hands of his master.
When the booger could no longer be ignored, I embarked upon a spelunking mission of massive proportions. Now when I report that the entire removal procedure took about 10 seconds max, I by no means intend to trivialize the battle. Bruce had put up a valiant effort, holding his ground as best he could. Since he was a bit gelatinous, I rolled the bulk between my forefinger and thumb for 30 seconds before flicking him out the driver’s side window. I was just about to wrap up operations when it hit me. I had forgotten to perform the requisite pre-extraction reconaissance. And oh, the horror. MAY DAY! MAY DAY! The perimeter was NOT secure! The perimter was NOT secure!
For just a few cars away sat an old man in a rusted-out Dodge K car (you know, the kind that looks like there are six dead bodies or two tons of bricks in the trunk). For someone who had just witnessed such a grisly scene, he looked fairly unphased and, much to my disappointment, unimpressed. We locked eyes for a few seconds before he turned away. It was if he was saying, “That’s the best you could do? I could’ve at least hit the Yukon at the end of the row.”
I can comment on sex, farts, vile dog habits, obnoxious mothers, uptight inlaws, pop culture, stupid co-workers and kitschy decorative objects but I have absolutely nothing to say about boogers. The last frontier.
Sometimes, I find that covering one nostril and giving a quick but forceful blow helps. But if it is a ’scaly’ then all hope is lost, and I’m going in.
Boogers, a mineral resource and excellent source of kid humor, often overlooked and underappreciated. They must posses magic powers of sorts. Why else would we be “blessed” with so many of them?
Eww, I was eating lunch!
I have done it myself. There is something about being inside your car that makes you feel as if no one can see you. Dig away, we all do it.
Oh. My. God.
Untitled takes on another taboo subject!
You mean you don’t rub the booger on the car floor?
I once sat at a red light watching the guy next to me mine for gold in his nostril and extract an extremely sticky booger. He proceeded to try to flick it off at least 10 times before it caught flight.
Thanks for the laugh.
Funny you mention this. I am totally OCD with my nose and boogers. I blow my nose at least 300 times a day. I cannot stand to see boogers sticking out of someone else’s nose (including any child within my reach-and I don’t care where we are-I will clean the nose). I go to great lengths to make sure my nose is clean and no “free radicals” are showing. I wonder if there is an actual name for this problem? God forbid I accidentally touch one. I use entirely too much tissue securing the “no booger touch”. Oddly enough, I have no problem using my BARE fingers to clean up my son’s nose.
Ho. ly. Shit.
I have read posts that have made me chuckle, sniff, even giggle but THIS was pure gold!!! Pure, laugh out loud GOLD, I say!!
Found you through Piglet and I must now send her a smooch-o-gram for the link.
I feel nauseous and thrilled, simultaneously. I love how you describe David’s need to be freed from his shackles so as to see the light of day. What I love even more is the fact you named a booger. Brilliant.
Too funny, as for me - I have been saving mine in the pocket of my co-workers bomber jacket he continually leaves draped over his chair…..too bad he wasn’t wearing it on New Years eve, as he could’ve reached in and thrown the conglomeration up in the air to sprinkle down like confetti. Oh well, maybe some other time.