boogey's

If the birth of Braxton taught me one thing it was this: Boys are born that way. Yes, the thinking bodily functions are funny, being rough and over-active, forgetting the reason napkins were invented, and enjoying boogers. Its the last two that brings me to this post.
Braxton is embracing his boyhood without reserve. (He's very secure in his masculinity, as he gets his toenails painted and carries a purse, we'll work on napkins then gender differences.) He has recently learned how to pick his nose. Something I was hoping he wouldn't learn how to do EVER. But, I suppose that is a pipe dream. Anyway, the one thing un-boy about Braxton is he HATES to have his hands dirty. So, when he picks his nose, after the initial inspection of his prize, he needs to get rid of it. Of course he doesn't usually ask for a napkin. Or wipe it on his pants or sleeve - which is the other alternative. He wipes it on my pants. Yes, I said my pants.
I'm not sure why he's chosen me as the recipient of these great treasures he pulls out of his nose, but he has. I try to look to the bright side of life and think at least its not the walls or his brother...