Booger Collection

Never, and I mean never, try to out-gross a kid. You will always lose. As the boys and I were driving back from Kentucky over the weekend, I listened to them play the ultimate cut-down contest.

Maginnis: "You're slimy eyeball juice..."

Phoenix: "Yeah, well you're a dirty diaper..."

Maginnis: "You're a smelly fish breath head..."

Phoenix: "You're a dog and you lick your butt!"

Yep. I think the four year old won that round. Where does he get that material? Hmm...the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.

David was giving Phoenix a hard time about having a snotty nose a while back. Basically, he told him that it's not cool to snort drippy boogers up into your brain and that it's even worse to let drippy boogers run down your lip and into your mouth. He told Phoenix that if he saw him with a boogery nose, he was going to pin him down, dig his boogers out with a spoon and add them to his booger collection in a jar he had hidden in his closet. Phoenix rolled on the floor and laughed until tears popped out of his eyes.

About a week later, David took the boys shopping at Publix. He zoomed the buggy around like a demolition derby car and the boys squealed with delight. Good thing I wasn't there, I might have had a heart attack watching him with the buggy. David brought the boys to a screeching halt in the freezer section, opened one of the glass doors, and began to grab frozen waffles. As he closed the door and turned around he was greeted by a smiling Nix, arm outstretched, finger pointing and a huge, yellow, oozy, crusty booger dangling.

"Here David, this is for your collection!"