How I Like to Boogey

“You can pick your friends, you can pick your nose, but you can’t pick your friend’s nose”…it kept running through my head as I stared at one of the many boogers I have pulled from baby girl’s nose.  One nose, one finger, one goober. Through this rather grotesque act, I realize that there is no ick great enough to stop me from giving baby girl everything she needs.  It grows clearer how every event in my life has led to this- this boogey. Each decision that seemed so insignificant…really…wasn’t…because of this mucus pucus on my finger. All of the things I thought I did wrong and the mistakes I thought I made with outcomes that I thought would have changed my life for the better, are no longer perceived as such because each time I chose, I chose this sticky goop that descends from her cute button nose. And she is  my friend, my dearest, closest friend, even though she’ll never know it, because she saved my life in so many ways.

So, adage of old, pardon my disaccord when I say, you really can pick your friend’s nose, you just can’t eat it.

Parum. Pum.Pum.



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