One of the best and worst things about the Internet is the way it scatters and disappears like a small town college every weekend. I won’t document my escapades on the weekends when I had Cooper to myself. Instead, knowing that nobody will read this, I’ll talk about boogers. Nose stuff doesn’t bother me. It bothers Doug, though. Doug has an entire OCD routine attached to keeping his nose clean. I’m in a Valentine mood, so I won’t describe Doug’s elaborate nose rituals. Instead, I’ll explain that when one of the smallest children’s noses needs assistance, Doug pulls out saline spray and a big pile of tissues. Fortunately for Doug, Evan loooves his “sneeze” spray. Unfortunately for Doug, Evan is the boogeriest child ever born. Even more unfortunately, I frequently forget to pack the saline spray in the diaper bag. So, when we are out and about, we use my nasty method of nose cleaning. I just pick it right out of there without even flinching. If we are outside and I can’t find a tissue or fast food napkin, I do something that horrifies Doug. I flick it. Yep, I’m disgusting. Wait though, it gets worse. Last week, I was in a parking lot without the diaper bag or Doug’s handkerchief and there was an alien creature dangling from Evan’s nostril. In a split second, I picked it, flicked it and watched it land on someone else’s car. Now I was horrified. I successfully grossed myself out. Do I go wipe it off someone’s car and risk setting off their alarm or pray for rain? I wouldn’t be in this situation if I had a tissue. I was already in a self-inflicted funk over a neighborhood dog and Evan was fighting to escape my arms, so I continued my path of cowardice and trudged on with my child’s booger on someone else’s car. I worked myself into a self loathing fit and a monster migraine over a booger. Time to kick myself in the backside and get over myself. And buy several boxes of tissues.