I'm Officially a Mom

Yes, that's right--I'm officially a mom. I came to this realization when I found myself trying to get the boogers out of Emerson's nose with my bare hands. Don't pretend you're grossed out. If you're a parent, I'm sure you've done it. Before I was a mom, I swore I'd never touch anyone else's boogers, but it's different somehow when it's your own child. Don't get me wrong, there's no way I'd ever touch anyone else's boogers. In fact, just the thought of them makes me dry heave probably due to the fact that I had a bad experience in dance class when I was just a wee lass. But I think everyone is born with a natural dislike of boogers.

Ok, I know you're dying to hear the dance class story, so here it is. I was at dance class when I was like 6 or so, and there were little rumors flying that you were NEVER supposed to sit on the shag carpeted bench because that's where everyone wiped their boogers. I avoided said bench like the plague successfully until my dance teacher, who was a MAN, made us all sit on the bench while he talked to us. What did I come away from that talk with? A newfound knowledge of dance techniques? No. Someone else's nasty booger stuck to my finger. And guess who was first to dance across the floor? Me. I didn't have time to get rid of the thing. So I had to try to demonstrate whatever we learned for everyone while trying not to throw up with the nastiness stuck to my finger. What did I do with it when I reached the far wall, you ask? I did what any other 6-year-old would do. I wiped it on the wall and kept cautiously eyeing it so it didn't jump off the wall to get me.