The Small Things in Life

Becky often hands me crumbs and bits of paper that she finds on the floor (I’m afraid the child longs for a cleaner house than I am capable of providing), so I didn’t think twice this afternoon when she thrust her little hand into mine.  I didn’t even look to see what she had deposited into my palm. 

“What is it?” I asked mindlessly. 

“A booga” she replied. 

“A what?” I asked, finally looking down.  There, in my hand, lay a large greenish gob.  Indeed, she had named it correctly.  A booger. 

“Oh…thank you” was my stuttered response.  What else could I say?

At least she didn’t flick it. 

Or eat it.      

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