The Short Life of My Nose Finger

I'm not street smart by any means, but I know that some drug users grow out a fingernail or two so they can snort their drugs easier and more conveniently. A drug finger, I guess you would say. Well, I had a nose finger. That's right. When I was cutting my fingernails, which I keep very short, about a week ago, I accidentally missed the nail on my left index finger. I meant to go back to the clippers and finish it off, but of course I kept getting interrupted and forgetting. 

It just so happened that the boys were in the middle of giant booger-dom. They've had these lingering colds that don't seem to make them feel bad, they just produce a disturbing amount of boogers that crust all over their noses and make me feel like an incompetent mother. I remember being grossed out by kids' boogers before I was a mom and wondering, judgmentally, how the parents could just be out in public with a kid whose boogers were visibly crustified and nasty. Now I know.

It is ridiculously difficult to reach and wrangle up the crusty boogers from inside a squirming child's nostrils. You can try being civilized and using a tissue or a wipe, but when it comes down to it, that won't get the crusty parts that trap the slimy danglers up in the nostrils that hang there to be seen and grimaced at.  Sorry, I had to say it. Slimy danglers.

Well, I accidentally found the answer. Serendipity! My nose finger! With my index finger longer than my other fingers, I found myself using it to extract the boogers that first day. At the end of the day when I finally pulled out the clippers, I made eye contact with myself in the bathroom mirror and smirked. I put the clippers back in the drawer.

So for about a week I've depended on my nose finger to reach those hard-to-reach places in the boys' noses, much to their dismay. I'm sure it's unpleasant to experience my surprise-attacks as I swiftly slide my right hand on their necks and my nose finger up their noses, but I don't care because it makes them much more presentable and grosses me out less. I mean, I find it hard to be by them when they have those crusted danglers because I zero in on them and don't pay attention to what the boys are saying to me. "Mommy! Clark stepped in the toilet!" “Cal fell off the bunk bed!” Smile and nod, and shamelessly attack with my nose finger. Victory!

Anyway, this morning I clipped my nose finger off. I realized that, regardless of how practical it was, it was getting to be over-the-top disgusting and besides that it made typing difficult. Farewell, nose finger. Stand guard, though. I may call on you again, however. Maybe next cold season. 

Outside boogers are hard to reach when it's cold. The answer? Nose finger!