I’m dying to call this, ‘Up Yours’:)

Friday was zipping along nicely. The first of many daycare moms was picking up her little angel and we were in the homestretch to date night. Blair called to me from the living room, “Hey, Maren? Would you have a look at this?” A bloody nosed little person was admitted into the kitchen. 
 “What happened?” I ask. She stared at me blankly, with large blue eyes. Hmmm. So, she was doing something naughty. This girl clams right up if she thinks she’s in trouble.  On the other hand, she is one of my best informers…singing like a canary when someone else’s timeout is on the line.

“Why is your nose bleeding?” I try again. She is a rock. Not a peep. Which rules out her being hit. I hesitate to guess out loud, children love for you to supply their alibis. They will nod happily at any suggestion, just to get you off their little cases. I finished cleaning up her nose, and mentally am filing the case under, ‘Unexplained and Don’t Care’ when I spot something odd. I am looking up her nose, to see if I can see anymore blood, or boogers, when I see something glinting in the light. I have very long, fake fingernails, and I stick one up her nose. (I KNOW it’s gross…but I can tell you, my personal standards of really gross have dropped. I mean, I do daycare for pete’s sake, and have 7 kids. You think I’m afraid to pick someone’s nose? Think again.) Anyway, my fingernail clicked against whatever is in her nose. Clicked? I immediately stop. I don’t know what the h*%$ is up her nose, but I don’t want to push it in farther.  I feel the outside of her nose, and gently squeeze above the lumpy spot. Happily (happily?) out pops a bead. A boogery, bloody bead. (ok, that’s gross. even for me)

“You put a bead in your nose?” I ask. She nods, smiling. “Where did you get a bead?” I ask.

“From Rachel,” she informs me.

“Rachel gave you a bead?” I ask. She nods, still smiling, and adds, ‘There are lots of beads!”

“How many beads? Did you stick more beads up your nose?” I’m grilling her now, trying to guess how bad this could get.

She looks confused. She’s not sure how she’s supposed to answer. She must have assumed she was off the hook for this by bringing up Rachel, but is now probably wondering how this is back on her. I decide on a final exam, in which I find no more beads up her nose. Whew. She is free to go, and off she trots, with my final advising of no more beads up her nose.

Here comes another little one, running towards me, calling my name. I hold out my arms and am about to pick her up when….”BARF!” All over me and the kitchen….

Ugh.