Okay! Everyone does it. They sneak a teeny, tiny, little pick from time to time. Maybe they even go digging for gold a few inches up the nasal passages within the privacy of their own homes, with the blinds tightly pulled and the curtains snugly drawn shut, of course. You can always tell who the stanch booger pickers are, because they have boxes of aloe infused Kleenexes strategically stashed in every single room of their homes. On the other hand, a roll of two-ply Cottonelle will suffice for the discreet, low maintenance, occasional picker. I am not allowed to discuss the actions of avid booger pickers who do not courteously dispose of their nasal waste in the proper manner. Mr. Brooks, the principal of Washington Coleman Elementary School in South Boston, Virginia, instructed me to ignore the actions of such persons and not to point out the disgustingly, fowl graveyard of round, hardened, crusty, black boogies on the side of the filing cabinet to the entire classroom. At least I raised my hand and waited patiently for the ailing, hunching, elderly first grade teacher, Mrs. Bates, to call upon me before my declaration of its whereabouts.
Here is why your index finger should not succumb to the tempting beckons of your nasal passages. No matter how enticing the high pitched whistle in your nose, do not surrender to its alluring nasal song. If you do, even if you are only occasionally sneaking the teeniest, tiniest, little pick in the privacy of your own home, with the blinds tightly pulled and the curtains snugly drawn shut, you may look away from the flat paneled computer screen and glimpse your highly observant, exceedingly coordinated, four month old baby both with his teeny, tiny, little finger in his teeny, tiny, little button, nose, sneaking the teeniest, tiniest, little pick.
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