We’re on our way to drop me off at the office this morning. It’s a mild, sunny morning here in downtown Baltimore. Traffic’s moving along quite nicely and my husband and I are discussing the finer points of Korn’s/MacFarlane’s Freak on a Leash video.
“Look, Mommy, I pulled a booger out of my nose,” says Aaron, my three year old, quite proud of his accomplishment.
As I’m looking through my purse for a tissue into which he can deposit his newfound treasure, I ask him what he plans on doing with it. He thinks for a minute (Aaron’s quite a thinker - no rash answers from this kid) and asks me if he can put it under his pillow. At this point, I’ve moved the search from my purse to the glove compartment as I am but a simple woman and don’t carry such exotic things as tissues. Unfortunately, I’m still unable to locate one. Mr. Tech is utterly useless as he’s now laughing his ass off.
“Under your pillow?!” I ask.
“Yeah, under my pillow. I want to put it under my pillow so the Nose Fairy will come and give me cash.”
Now we’re both utterly useless as we’re both laughing our asses off. We picture the nose fairy to be a Kricfalusi-esque burly, hirsute man, with a large red nose, a five o’clock shadow wearing an ill-fitting tutu with a bent, but not broken, wand with a large, green, hairy booger on the end where the star would normally be.
Aaron, on the other had, does not understand what’s so funny. Here he stands to make a cool twenty-five cents (that’s the going rate for boogers these days, right?) and we, his parents who are supposed to love, support and encourage him, are laughing our collective asses off. Plus, Aaron has no clue whom John Kricfalusi, Ren OR Stimpy are.
Mr. Tech finally collects himself enough to locate a Quiznos napkin in the door compartment and passes it to his son. Aaron reluctantly smears the booger into the napkin still trying to figure out just how in the hell the Nose Fairy is supposed to know he owes him a quarter.
