Crusty
A few months back we went through an extended period of illness. It wasn’t anything extremely serious – just the boys and I trading sicknesses back and forth. It seemed like every morning at least one of us was hacking and snorting.
One such morning, N (my three-year-old) was rubbing vigorously at his nose. We were sitting at breakfast – me with my cereal, him with his cheese toast. I watched for a few seconds and then stopped him gently with one hand. “What’s going on?”
He sighed heavily. “Crust in my nose”
“Blech. You need a tissue?”
“From my eye!” He said, starting to rub again.
“Oh yeah?”
He pulled his hand away from his nose, smiling. “Cheese toast crust!”
I looked at his half-eaten cheese toast, then at him. Had he stuck toast up his nose? I couldn’t tell.
He caught me looking and burst out laughing.
Sigh. I went back to eating my cereal.