I'm a picker. I always have been, always will be. Some people think it's disgusting and gasp at the thought of doing it, but most people I know are closet pickers. They don't want to admit it, but they get the same level of satisfaction as I do out of a great pick.
(This blog post isn't going where you thought it was, is it?) That's right. I'm publicly admitting it—I love to pick, peel, poke, and prod.
And the only thing better than picking something on yourself, is picking something on your kid. You made them, you get to pick them. That's my motto.
Now, I suggest if you are one of those "non pickers," you might want to stop reading, because the rest of this blog post might make you dry heave a little and think less of me as a human. But if you're a fellow picker, you'll understand the next statement:
Nothing excites me more than a good booger. Or an ingrown hair. A pimple. Some cradle cap. Dead skin. A hangnail even. I have superpowers that help me detect even the most miniscule bump that needs to be explored, investigated, and then immediately removed.
Yes, I realize how disgusting this sounds. But I'm being honest. I just can't stare at my child's beautiful face when they have a giant boog hanging out of their nose. It just MUST come out. It has to. I can't focus on anything else until that boog has been released, and I've developed some clever boog-removal skills as well.
The first one is called the Sneak Attack. When my toddler is watching TV or is totally distracted playing with his dump truck, I'll sneak up from behind and lunge for the booger. This is a very efficient technique, but requires the precision of a surgeon. One wrong move, and you'll miss the nostril completely and alert the toddler to your plan. Then, it's game over. So you have to be quick, and choose your angles wisely.
The second is called the Get Your Toddler Excited About His Booger technique. I've actually said, "Oh my goodness! Look at that awesome big booger! Let me take it out and show you!" This is complete with the same level of enthusiasm that I'd express over getting ice cream, by the way. It doesn't work as well as the Sneak Attack because unlike me, my toddler doesn't seem to get excited about boogers, but at least it confuses him long enough for me to go in for a grab.
As I type this, I realize how insane this sounds, and yes, perhaps my children will require therapy later in life. But who doesn't, really? I'd hate for them to be the only child in their kindergarten class who ISN'T in therapy, you know?
Will they learn to associate snuggling with having their head/eyes/backs/fingers picked at? Maybe. But monkeys pick and snuggle at the same time, so I'm pretty sure it's a natural evolutionary thing. I'm also pretty sure that I'm an expert at justifying just about anything...
If you're in the mood for more blog posts about the human body, feel free to check out "Ladyscaping for Labour." Or there was the time I wrote a letter to my boobs...
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