As I picked him up from daycare his teacher gave me an odd account of his day involving his refusal to eat an orange & picking his nose until it bled. Lovely. Then as he came out to greet me I asked him what was going on with his nose he said very frankly "Rock". I was worried he may have shoved a rock up his nose - but doubtful that my interpretation of toddler speak was exactly reliable.
Turns out he was clear & correct so tonight I was treated to a new adventure involving a trip down to Centennial urgent care and a $100 copay for a nasal extraction of a playground pebble. Not exactly my worst date ever... but not really the change of pace I was hoping for.
As an act of maternal revenge I've decided to start a collection of these treasures (which I hope remains small) and make him buy them back from me along with the 'rights to the stories' when he is older. Until then I get to tell them over and over and over again to anyone who will listen!
