Library & boogies

Saturday morning Cole and I had an impromptu date with a certain toy tractor. We were never able to finish playing with it when we were at the library a few weeks ago. Plus, I like to keep the local libraries in business with my late fees and thought it was high time I pay up.

Okay. So this is my local library. I'd like to say I love it but I'd be lying. Why? Because the children's section is in the front of the library, right across from circulation. It's a weird location, if you ask me. As a parent I always feel like we're either a) being listened to or b) disturbing some really quiet and focused library patron. To top it off, there is a basement. What does that mean? It means my basement-deprived toddler can stomp on the floor or drop a block and the sound reverberates and echoes. I can't tell you how much he loves the sound of his feet on a hollow floor.

Fast forward to the middle of our playtime there and little mister is picking his nose. This has been an ongoing "thing" in our house not just because he picks his nose but also because of what he does afterwards with his boogies. He's very creative and it can get gross. So, I won't go into detail.

So he's picking his nose. I remind him to please follow our rule of not picking his nose in public. (Because how do you tell a toddler he can NEVER pick his nose?)

He asked this next question in the most innocently but argumentative of ways: "Why can't I find my boogie?"

What could I do? Yes. I laughed. I'm such a bad disciplinarian sometimes. But if you can't laugh at your toddler then what kind of parent are you, really?