Forward, Together Forward

Together Huskies, come on you Huskies and make a score or two; Huskies, you're Northern Huskies, the team to pull us through.

Forward, together forward there's victory in view, Come on you Huskies, Fight on you Huskies and win for N.I.U. (Lyrics by Francis Stroup, Music by A. Neil Annas)

Out of the Mouths (and noses) of Babes

Okay, if you are eating a snack or meal, be warned that this blog contains writings regarding the bodily function of BOOGERS.

Tasty!

You might be wondering what on earth has me thinking about boogers. (Well, you might be thinking about that on a daily basis with what I write about...I'd hate to disappoint you by getting normal after all these posts.) The triggering event: MJagger's daughter.

I was at MJagger's house yesterday and her daughter Irish Twin #1 was curled up on the couch, sick with a fever. I had just come inside from the cold and my nose was ever-so-slightly feeling like it might be running. As I was sitting on the ottoman, chatting with this fine young four year old (who happens to call me "Badonna"), I nonchalantly used the inside of the collar of my sweatshirt to "pinch" my nose--you know, you lift the sweatshirt up to your nose, put the shirt over your face, pinch or wipe (whatever you'd like to call it) to make sure you have nothing running down your face, be done with it. I didn't even know I had done it. (I'm thinking it's not a good sign that I wasn't even aware that I had done this. I think it's a leftover habit from when I was an orthodontic assistant and we could never touch our face with our hands--we also sneezed into our shirts, believe it or not. Hey, it worked.)

Irish Twin #1 looks at me with a very serious face and says:

"Badonna, when I have boogers, I use a Kleenex."

Touche! Out of the mouths of babes!

Trust me, I went and got a Kleenex.

Boogers are an interesting thing, if you ask me (and no, you are not asking me--I understand that). I have many a booger-related story from my childhood--my family can attest to that. (I'm not sure how to accurately tell the "hanging-the-boogers-on-the-nightstand" story, but will think about it. A Classic in the making.) I distinctly remember being in Zayre's (a pre-cursor to K-Mart) with my aunt when I was probably five or six years old. We were walking toward the exit and I must have been picking my nose because I remember my aunt sternly barking out:

"IF YOU DON'T QUIT PICKING YOUR NOSE, YOUR NOSE WILL GET BIGGER."

Um, now that I'm an adult, I have a big nose. I must have been a very, very busy nose-picker as a child.

One of my big fears about public speaking (for whatever group it may be) is that there will be a booger in my nose and no one will tell me. (That fear is only a wee bit more troubling than my fear that I have a "spittle" while talking--you know, one of those white little blobs of spit-tish stuff that you sometimes see when people are talking. How can you listen when someone has a spittle? All I can see is, "Oh my god! That spittle is making me nauseous?!) True friends will tell you, "Hey, you have a booger," or "wipe your nose," or they will just hand you a Kleenex and hope you understand. But, a group of listeners aren't gonna say a word--they are going to sit there and stare at that booger and probably won't hear a word I say. Thus, I am hyper vigilant when it comes to checking my nose before going into the public sector. Know that my nose will always be fresh and pretty...

...unless I am coming in from the cold and don't have a Kleenex or mirror. All bets are off in the booger department. I'm counting on you to be honest and give me the clue that "there's a bat in the bat cave."

For the record, I have never eaten a booger. Bet you can sleep better at night knowing this. I have wiped a booger on my pant leg, though. (Not as an adult, of course. Well, not that I remember.) I do not like boogers (unlike my passion for poop). A booger can make me gag and a lot of things in life cannot make me do this. Give me a big clogged toilet over an adult with a runny nose any day.

Now that YOU are gagging, I will end this nasal tirade. Before I sign off, may may I: (1) suggest you don't borrow any of my sweatshirts during the winter months; (2) suggest you don't pick your nose in K-mart; and, (3) do not "hang" your boogers on the nightstand.

'Nuff said.