A fly in the pointment.

Sweetie, don’t pick your nose.

I’m not picking it, I’m getting a fly.

There’s a fly up your nose?

Yes… but it’s dead.

How did it get there?

It flew in.

While it was dead?

No, it flew in and then my nose hairs must have strangled it.

Murderous nose hairs you’ve got there, Sweetie. Do we need to get screen doors for your nose?

No.

Are you sure, because I’ll cut you some little ones.

No.

Aren’t you glad it wasn’t a bee?

Daddy, maybe that’s why they’re disappearing.

Colony Collapse Disorder is because the workers are flying into little girls noses where they die in a hair tangle?

Maybe.

Well, Hon, I’ll just have to call the scientists and let them know.

… Okay.

See, it’s all that sugar and spice up there that draws 'em. Unfortunate luck in being a little girl.

Now my son, I don’t think he has to worry much about getting flys and bees and such stuck in his nose hair. Maybe some small mammals (the boy has some serious hair issues) but no insects as far as I can tell.

Cute story.

Does this explain how all the arable soil ends up in my son’s ears?

Very cute. Kids simply can’t keep their fingers out of their various orifices, can they…

This happened on the way home from Bake Camp. Hopefully, that’ll explain the fly. My wife called me on her cell while I was at work. She said ‘ask your daughter what’s in her nose’, and in a tiny voice the above was relayed to me.

When I got home, the wife told me she pulled her finger out, pointed it and the dead fly on the end toward mommy and said ‘see!’

Apparently, the proof really was in the pudding.