Spring.
What does this mean to me? A LOT. No one in the universe gets spring fever as intensely as I do. I'm become a crazed lunatic doing my best to organize, clean, and freshen up the house. It's like the nesting phase of pregnancy....
without the pregnant part. Yesterday I spent 3 hours organizing our laundry room. Who does that? It's not even a laundry room anyway. Just a dumb entryway leading in from the garage where our washer and dryer
happen to be located. What a joke. A family with 7 people (6 of them being dirty boys)
needs a laundry room. Anyway, our
fake laundry room was in dire need of attention. I found things high on the shelves that hadn't been touched since we moved here in 2003. Go ahead, say it.
NASTY! I know.After that, I stood at the kitchen island and stared at the mantle thinking of other improvements I could make. LOVE my mantle -
thanks, Dad. I closed my eyes and made a wish that the
Pier One fairy would instantly fly before me and present me with a gift certificate to brighten up my house. I imagined orange, yellow and pale blue spring-like decor smiling back at me. Just as little sparrows began to fly around me and things were becoming cheery and new, I was interrupted by Jack. "Mom.....why are you standing there with your eyes closed?"
My boys think I've lost it.
My day continued with re-arrangement and cleaning. I paid special attention to walls and baseboards. As I made my way down the staircase, washing the banister, spindles and daily grime from the walls, I came across something. A little something, but big with problems. Something heinous and detestable.
Something that will haunt me for a long time.A booger.Yes, it's true. I found a
booger crusted to my wall!
(I'm gagging as I write this.)I took a moment, rubbed my eyes and sat down on the nearest step. I immediately did my best to recount any friends or neighbors' kids that my boys have had into the house. This COULD NOT be the doing of
MY perfect children.
How could I go wrong? My boys don't even pick their noses. Well, not very often. Well, except Logan. Logan picks all day long. But I've never seen him actually 'get' anything. I think it's just a habit. When I see the boys even
scratch their nose, I freak. I'm quick to point out children who
do pick their nose (at the store, park, or anywhere else we may travel), and show my kids how disgusting it looks. I also tell little white lies about horrible diseases you can catch from nose picking and how everyone has a snail in their nose that will bite your finger off if you stick it in too far
(props to Mom and Shel Silverstein).Even if it was one of my boys who picked their nose, wiping it on the wall brings it to an entirely new level.
I
will find out who graced my walls with their snot. By line-up
(something I'm famous for), interrogation, or DNA,
I will find the culprit.And he shall suffer.
Boogers never have been, and never will be included with springtime decorating at this house.
My apologies to Pocky, who may never speak to me again for using the words booger and snot within the same post.