I just found a dried booger on my shower curtain.
It’s about two feet off the ground, on the outside of the curtain, right next to the toilet in my kids’ bathroom.
After three kids, very little surprises me, and yet—there is something intriguing about the decision making process that went into this random little DNA deposit.
Picture this, if you will…
You’re a kid, somewhere between the age of 6 and 14, and you’re sitting on the can, doing your business.
Maybe it’s taking a long time. Maybe you forgot to bring in a book or your iThing. Clearly you’re not eating enough fruit or drinking enough water.
Minutes pass. Boredom strikes.
You’re stuck, waiting for the magic to happen.
Your mind wanders.
You start to get a little antsy.
You tap your feet.
You drum your fingers on your legs.
Nope. Still bored.
A-ha! An idea strikes! You can mine for gold in your nose! Hey, you’re only human, and the dry winter heat has been doing a number on your sinuses.
Perhaps while you’re sitting there, slowly rotating your finger to explore the entire surface area of your right nostril, you discover something worth excavating. “Ooooh,” you think to yourself, “I’ve got one! And it’s ripe for the picking!”
You manage to get your fingernail under the edge of it, pry it loose, and slowly extract your finger to examine your findings.
Yep. There’s gold in them thar hills!
But now you have a choice…
…what to do with your unhygienic haul.
You could turn your upper body 90 degrees to the left and tear off a square of toilet paper on which to wipe your nose-nugget, and then drop it into the toilet… but ooooh, that’s a multistep task requiring a number of large muscle groups, core strength, and fine motor skills.
Nah. Too hard.
Or you could simply and with minimal effort, slightly extend your right hand about 45 degrees to the right and wipe your sticky snotsicle on the blank canvas of the white, cotton, waffle weave, Bed Bath & Beyond shower curtain just hanging there… practically begging for your artistic input.
Yes. That’s the answer, you think. Simple, yet satisfying.
A decision is made; a plan is formed; a task is completed.
Your work is done…
…at least until your mother discovers the desiccated evidence of your choice, and sits you and your siblings down for a long, boring, heated discussion about hygiene, gooey graffiti, the slippery slope of sloth, and (for-the-love-of-all-things-holy) showing the tiniest bit of frickin’ courtesy for others by not exposing them to the disgusting excretions of your various body cavities.
Yes dear, that includes flushing.
Meh. They’re kids. This is what they do.
I guess I should be glad he/she didn’t eat it. It could always be worse.
Ahhhhh… parenting. It certainly keeps you on your toes. And knees. And in the laundry room.
Two roads diverged in an ocean-themed bathroom…
…and my child took the one less traveled by.