So, The Boy has discovered boogers. Specifically, he's discovered that:
a) his nostrils produce them; and
b) he can terrify his little sister with them.
**Sigh**
There are days I will pick up the phone, dial my parents' house, hear my mother answer, say nothing more than "Hi mom. Just wanted to say I'm sorry." and she knows what I mean. I'm a big brother - a "big bother" as my little sister used to say (hell, still does sometimes). At family get-togethers, even now as grown adults with mortgages and car payments, I can still make her duck and scream by holding my hands so as to mimic having a rubber band ready to fling at her.
The Boy never stood a chance.
So, when "MOOOOOOM! [The Boy] is picking his nose AGAIN" reverberates through our household like the clarion call of Gabriel's trumpet, we know that failing to step in will result in several minutes of "EWWWWWW!" "[The Boy] STOOOOOP!!!" and the ever-popular "HE'S PICKING HIS NOSE *AGAIN*!"
It's cosmic karmic payback. Every last mucus-filled second. There's got to be some sort of "booger gene" encoded on the "Y" chromosome and absent on the second "X". I figure another 148,000 screams of "HE'STOUCHINGMEWITHHISFINGER" and I'm even with my mom.
Which, naturally, means that my mailbox only has to explode another 87 times before I'm square with the universe.
That is all.
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5 comments:
Yeah. I figure I have about 15 mailbox destruction's coming to me sometime soon.
What was the final date for the MA/NH meetup?
Well, my mailbox has been destroyed by the plow guys about twice a year for the past 7-8 years, although in the past year or two they've been fine.
I'm still due a few more, tho'.
Haven't set a final date for the meetup. I need to make a few calls this week, decide which of the brew pubs can best accommodate us all, and offer 2-3 possible places so we can nail down specifics.
I'm hoping for an update on Thursday.
I guess I've got the flip side, being an older sister (by seven years) to Brat #1 and Brat #2? On the other hand, my older sister and I got rid of perhaps five or six babysitters all by our sweet wittle selves, so I'm probably screwed on childcare for the rest of my life.
Oh Jay and Mrs. Jay...
I'm right there with you. Seriously.
lissa,
I don't even want to think about how many babysitters ran screaming from our house. My parents finally had to resort to hiring the older sisters of a good friend of mine, under the (correct) assumption that if I were mean to them, I would not be allowed over my friend's house...
Epi,
You mean your kids have discovered the multiple uses of the body's waste products too???
No one ever told you just how freakin' glamorous parenthood was, did they?
:)
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