The Williamson Four For France are the missionaries of the month at Life Center in December, so we hauled a few extra things along with us to church this morning. When we got out of the car, I had my purse and a Bible, David had large box full of fliers, photos, and brochures, and Graham grabbed the laptop computer while asking, "Chandler, what are you carrying?"
Chandler looked intently at his left index finger and said matter-of-factly,"I got a booger!"
No he is not three years old, he is eleven. By the time we made it in to church, Chandler assured us that the booger was gone. I did not ask where it went. I have learned that there are some things I simply do not need to know.
I wanted to end my post at this point, but the boys thought that I should take my share of the blame for the booger incident. I have an apparently rare obsession with facial orifices. (Now there's a statement that is going to point some odd googlers to my blog.) Ever since my boys were itty bitty babies, I have been vigilant about making sure their eyes, ears, and noses are clear of all crustiness. They both have forbidden me from looking into their noses now, but I still let them know when they need to clean their ears.
Yes, I should buy stock in q-tips.
Anyways, Chandler probably thought he was doing an important task by taking care of the booger before church.
And now you all know about one of my motherly quirks for which he will probably have to see a shrink someday!
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I suppose I could weigh in with my own booger story, but I am not even totally sure how to spell that word. (Barbara here)
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