Booger Bites

Boogers. We’ve all eaten some. And by we I really mean me.

I was about 4 and I had discovered the simple satisfaction that is nose-picking. I didn’t care much for cleanliness in general but I was um, picky about nostril hygiene. The quality of my life at that point was easily determined by how booger-free my nose was. The problem was that all this gold-digging left me with a by-product that I had to dispose of.

I could smear it, wipe it, flick it, wash it away or roll it around while thinking of more efficient ways to discard it.

It wasn’t long before it occurred to me to eat it. It seemed like such a good idea at that time because it did after all come from my nose and the proximity to my mouth made it practically edible. It’s all connected inside anyway, isn’t it?

I have to admit that my first booger bite wasn’t great. It wasn’t terrible but just very meh. With all the other snack options available to me, eating booger was way down the list, occupying the spot below wholemeal bread but above celery sticks.

The response I elicited from my bite of booger, however, was far more interesting. Grown ups seemed to find it a vile and disgusting habit. Some told me that it would give me a tummy ache and others even told me that it would make worms grow in my stomach. To the 4-year-old me, it was equal parts fascinating and terrifying. While I wasn’t entirely keen on the idea of having worms grow in my stomach, the rebel in me was already plotting to make it a regular snack option just to call their bluff.

I’ve since stopped it (seriously, I have) but it took my several years before I realized that me eating booger just to disprove a theory was dumb on so many levels. Plus it wasn’t even that nice.

Several days ago, I spotted Truett picking his nose and putting it in his mouth so now I’m considering my options on how to deal with the situation.

1. Leave him to outgrow it. I’m fairly confident that the taste of booger pales in comparison to Ruffles chips and ice-cream. which means that if I offer him tastier options, this gets phased out quick and easy. But then again, he might find it delicious and never stop.

2. Scare him into change. I could go with “son, that’s a vile and disgusting habit. You will get worms in your stomach that will eat their way up to your mouth” but off the top of my head, I just came up with many viler and more disgusting habits that will require this approach. I should probably save this for the day he attempts to eat someone else’s booger.

3. Tell him my booger story so he doesn’t have to learn the hard way. But any story that begins with “mommy used to eat booger too...” doesn’t make me sound very credible.

4. Get some worms for a live demonstration. It’s likely that my kids inherited my rebellious streak so this will probably backfire.

5. Tell him to stop it because mommy says so. Hah. Right, if only this ever works.

Any ideas?