M left at the crack of dawn to go to an all day conference up in the city. He woke me up just as he was leaving, and since the girls were playing nicely I stayed in bed and snoozed a bit longer.
It worked for a while. The girls were entertaining themselves in their room and popping in every few minutes to hand me some trinket or toy. Unfortunately, after a while they decided they’d rather play in our room, land of the errant coin and earplug.
Weary of getting up every three seconds to wrestle something from Little L’s closed fist or tightly shut mouth, I moved the party to the living room where I hunkered on the couch under a comforter and the girls settled in for a little Caillou watching. It was awesome.
For a while.
“Mommy? The teeny tiny baby acorn is stuck in my nose!” C called from her armchair. I took a micro second to process what she was saying. Tiny acorn? Nose? Whaaa? The I lept up from the couch and pulled her towards me. Couldn’t see anything. Could feel a small bump in her nose. Crud.
OK. So, C is 3. Do you know how small a 3 year old nose is? Do you know how small an acorn has to be to fit in her nose? Pretty darn small. I tell you. Pretty darn small.
I rushed to find the tweezers (in the bathroom) and a flashlight (under the sideboard in the dining room) and I carefully
threw lay C on the couch. One quick check with the flashlight and I could see the little bugger lodged pretty high up. Visions of an early Saturday visit to the pediatrician’s office danced through my head as I very carefully reached into the nostril with my trusty tweezers. (Note to self, clean them before my next eyebrow tweezing session.)
It is amazing to me that during this whole ordeal C didn’t emit a single cry. In fact she didn’t shed a tear until I held up my prize acorn and told her I was going to throw it out. Which I’m kinda sad I did because now I don’t have a picture to show you the world’s smallest acorn, and possibly the first to get stuck in someone’s nose.