Ian, being the curious toddler that he is, is usually pretty fascinated by the whole process being performed on his baby sister. I've caught him on occasion looking in the mirror with the Snot Rocket jammed into his nose. I offer to help him out with it, but then he shakes his head, very clearly says, "No," hands me the aspirator and walks (in all honesty, runs) away. I haven't been able to use that thing on him in probably over a year. He's just too strong. With the rivers of snot that keep running down his lip, I probably need to teach him how to blow his nose. I wonder, at what age do kids learn to do that?
At any rate, here's my attempt at poetry...
An Ode to a Snot Rocket
Oh, Snot Rocket, how I hate thee,
Your blue bulbous shape definitely scares me.
Of what is to come, I can only imagine,
To escape, I need the strength of a steam engine.
Oh you wretched, cursed thing,
That comes with the cold that I get every spring.
Oh the humiliation, the indignation and anguish I feel,
As you're put up my nose, making me squeal.
I know I can't smell anything or even breathe,
But your intrusion into my nose just makes me seethe.
Really, I don't mind the rivers of ooze that just keep a flowing,
Above my lip a snot mustache is growing.
As your menacing self slowly advances,
I'll swat at you feverishly taking no chances,
At letting your daunting self get to my nose,
Trying to extract yellowish stuff that flows.
Oh please, oh please, leave me alone,
Even though my nose desperately needs to be blown.
Oh, Snot Rocket, how I hate thee,
Your blue bulbous shape definitely scares me.
Of what is to come, I can only imagine,
To escape, I need the strength of a steam engine.
Oh you wretched, cursed thing,
That comes with the cold that I get every spring.
Oh the humiliation, the indignation and anguish I feel,
As you're put up my nose, making me squeal.
I know I can't smell anything or even breathe,
But your intrusion into my nose just makes me seethe.
Really, I don't mind the rivers of ooze that just keep a flowing,
Above my lip a snot mustache is growing.
As your menacing self slowly advances,
I'll swat at you feverishly taking no chances,
At letting your daunting self get to my nose,
Trying to extract yellowish stuff that flows.
Oh please, oh please, leave me alone,
Even though my nose desperately needs to be blown.
4 comments:
I have so been there and done that too many times to count! I love your description of the lovely aspirator and will indeed bogart the phrase if I ever need to use one again. Hopefully not on my own kids (9,7 and 2.5). As far as blowing goes, my daughter (youngest) had it down from 12 months on, but the boys didn't have it figured out until at least three.
This is hilarious! I love snot rocket. We've always called ours The Snot Sucker of Doom.
Ha- we call it the booger sucker! My ped gave me some good advice and told me to go out and find the ones that are shaped differently, not the big bulb with the long tube, ones like this: http://www.babybungalow.com/thebabybungalow/luvncanaas.html
it worked so much better for me! I feel your pain..
Nils, as a Swede, you probably know Nosefrida, it is available in the States now. It's what they give out in the children's hospitals in Scandinavia, the bulb is non existent there because it can be dangerous. It has worked great for my kids.
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