There's one in every family.

A booger eater.

And ours is Ty

Disclaimer: This post is gross.


He'll look me square in the eye, stick half his finger up his nose, dig for his treasure and, with no shame, stick it right in his mouth.

I had high hopes that we escaped this disgusting habit. Boogers never appealed to Colby or Kara.  I figured just really gross kids did that. Colby and Kara were booger pickers, that's for sure. And I found boogers just about everywhere you can think of. Kara's booger destination of choice was her bedroom wall and Colby's was the carpet. But everytime I found a dried up booger, I tried to remember that I'd rather it be there, than in the mouth of my child.

I don't find boogers on the wall or carpet anymore. They are in Ty's tummy instead.

Perhaps I should blame myself. No- I don't eat my boogers. Really, that's gross. Nor did I as a child. Atleast I'm pretty sure I didn't. However, I have a mild obsession with my kids' boogers (to pick, not eat. That's even grosser). If I see one, I can't let it alone. I really can't. I'll lose sleep over it. At any cost, it shall be gone. Even if my fingernails are freshly cut and my poor baby's nostils are tiny- it must be done. It's mean and probably borderline child abuse.

And now Ty prefers his own finger over mine and unfortunately, boogers over many edible delicacies.

Here's to hoping the habit disappears by the time he's...I don't know, 16? No. Let's go with 13.