So Small Fry had a world-class meltdown today that necessitated me taking a break from work and playing the heavy while Gramma kept the other two Fries occupied.
After much in the way of tears, wails, screams, shrieks, and discipline (resulting in more tears, wails, screams and shrieks), I told her she could go play outside as soon as she stopped wailing and crying. (Trust me. It was both.)
She sniffled loudly, and scrubbed her hand across her nose.
"Go get a tissue," I told her, seeing the booger that had vacated her nose to prime finger-top real estate.
"Don't WANNA tissue!" Her hands swiped furiously at her shorts.
Okay. Not gonna even try to fight that one. "Fine."
She went outside, proceeded to wail and cry out on the porch, which meant I took another break from work to go tell her to come inside and stand in the corner until she was done crying, at which point she could leave the corner and go outside to play.
It wasn't until after she'd been outside, the pizza had arrived, and I finally decided I ought to eat that I looked at the shoulder of my shirt.
Where I found her booger.
HOW in the world did a booger aimed directly at the backside of her shorts end up on my shoulder?!
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