gone a huntin'

I believe that it is generally accepted that the obsessions of the parent are often adopted by the child.  It makes sense to me. My parents instilled certain "truths" in me (like the fact that a great pair of shoes can do wonders for the spirit) and N.'s parents certainly did a number on him.

How can it be helped, when from such a young and tender age we are bombarded by the deep-seeded fears, concerns, beliefs and obsessive compulsive rituals of the people charged to shine a light along the path of life for us. And as parents, of course we are going to shine the light specifically on those things for which we believe our children should be most watchful. 

We take our parents baggage and go out into the world to find our own set to add to the ensemble. We then try our best to find enough storage, somewhere, so that we can safely hide the whole set -- until the time comes to "pass it forward". 

Much to N.'s dismay, the time has come for me to begin bequeathing some of my finest to the Bean. N. believes that this particular obsession is new found, a recent addition to a long list of peculiar fascinations due in large part to the addition of a small, secreting being. The obsession in question...  boogers.

Boogs, bogeys, nose goblins, nose gold, whatever you want to call them, I am obsessed with the extraction and eradication of the little fuckers.  Both for myself and for my child.

I have very, very severe allergies and as a result I wage a daily battle to rid myself of the sticky secretion. It prevents me from breathing, it makes my nose itch uncontrollably, and sometimes (I mean, I am just being honest here) it hurts.  And so, I spend a lot of time waging an ongoing battle against the invaders. Sometimes, I find the need to involve others in the fight...  In college, I asked my roommate to check for "boogs" on such a regular basis, that she sent me this [Download boogs.pdf] the summer before our junior year. 

I had hoped that Bean would not inherit my nasal passage's uncanny ability to over-produce the stuff, but while blessed with a beautiful set of eyes, a great sense of humor and a stunning sense of style... the good must come with the bad.

And so, we battle on so that I can show him how to arm himself for the future.  I have three different aspirators and have perfected the techniques necessary to extract almost any variety.  I can also make pretty excellent progress with my pinkie nail and some strategic squeezing. And if all else fails it is pretty darn amazing what a warm washcloth will accomplish. I find it very satisfying work.

The only issue is that Bean does not seem to enjoy it at all.  In fact, he appears to hate it.  It is almost as if (gasp! could it be true?) he would rather just go about his day with those boogers hanging out like a couple free-loading, stoner roommates.

So, now I am faced with the question.  Do I let it go, assuming that Bean just isn't cut out for a life of nose goblin slaying? Or, do I press on with the knowledge that sometimes it just takes a little bit of commitment to really develop an apprentice.

Comments

[Chasity]

LOL!! That is too funny! I love to pick Aiden my 7 mo. old nose. It is an obsession. I think to myself that if I can't breathe with them in my nose, surely he can't either and I make it my mission to get the boogies out much to his dismay!! Thank you so much for the laugh.

[Wood]

Oh man, t'pon -- do you really have a choice? Of course you don't. It isn't physically possible for you to leave him alone with the stoner boogers hanging out on his face. You might be able to postpone getting out your turkey-baster-nose-thingie for like a minute or two, but eventually, you're going to have to go in there because that's just who you are. I feel you, I share your obsession.

My own booger story is related to allergies and a nose ring. bad combo. Luckily, I don't think Junebug has more than her fair share of boogers yet, but when they are in there, I can't be held back. and she reserves a special scream to express her displeasure with my booger-hunting. I know it makes no sense to fess with her when she's in a good mood, but if there's a booger lurking, I have to get it. I just have to.

[Holly]

Press on woman... I did with my oldest and now at the age of 4 he is nearly as obsessed with clean nasal passages as I am. Bean will catch on, and there is absolutely nothing wrong with ridding oneself of boogers.

[tpon]

And then yesterday, I so masterfully hit a booger with the bulb that I can't squeeze it back out. I think that it hit the backmost part of the bulb. Clearly, I have a gift. God must want me to use it for good.