December 12th, 2007
I have this thing about poo. In that I am simultaneously fascinated and repulsed by it. It’s interesting to ponder poop and appreciate its evacuatory properties. It is a waste by-product, after all, and the fact that it represents your body cleaning itself out is exciting (to me, but I also like pus, for the same reason). But I also am disgusted by gross human residue if it is in my vicinity. That includes hair strands, dead skin flakes, poo balls (and I come across them more than you’d think), toe jam (ditto) and boogers (also ditto…or is that ditto ditto ditto? I never know). This is relevant because my almost 4-year-old daughter (that would be a girl, not a boy from whom you’ve come to expect this kind of behavior) is doing two things I am currently coming to grips with: 1) picking her nose and putting it on things in my vicinity 2) taking all her clothes off and sitting on the couch and other things in my vicinity I’m imaginative. It’s a blessing. And a curse. Lately, all I envision is butt juice smeared on my furniture, and goobers of the booger kind, entangled in my hair or worse, accidentally stuck on my finger after I pick up something of my daughters and transfer it to my person. I get a little OCD about this. Which is weird, because I used to pick my nose and put it under my mom’s pillow when I would sleep in her bed during my dad’s sales trips. Talk about getting boogers entangled in your hair.