It is bedtime. I'm reading 'My Friend Fred' to J & M when out the corner of my eye I see J insert his index finger up a nostril, dig around for a bit, then eat whatever it is he found there.
Me: Mate- do you mind? You can do that as much as you like when no one is watching, but not when other people are here, OK?
Keith: Yeah, cause mum will want some if she sees you doing that.
Me: No- other people's bogies never taste as good, do they?
J: You're right there mum, they don't.
(Me & Keith exchange worried glances)
Me: So... Have you tried someone else's then?
J: Yeah, Kobe's. They were horrible.
This from the fussiest child ever who refuses to eat most green things, anything remotely crispy (aside from crisps) and who is deeply suspicious of strips of pasta as he usually has penne. I don't get it.
• Cheese on toast with Hellman's, done under the grill so that the cheese sizzles and goes all crunchy at the edges:
Eww- no thank you.
• Self produced nasal mucus:
Oh yes, dee-licious.
• Mushroon and Leek pasta strips with peppers and parmesan:
I'm not even attempting to eat that. I will say I'm still full up (lunch was 5 hours ago) then yawn repeatedly in an attempt to be asked to go to bed rather than put ONE forkful of that near my mouth.
• Someone else's nasal mucus:
OK then, I'll try it just this once- since you're offering.
I have no way of rationalising this habit except that if he was a cat he wouldn't suffer from fur balls.
