My tiny charge tossed and turned all night – which in turn meant that I tossed and turned all night via the baby monitor on my bedside table. When we finally officially woke up this morning his little nose was full of dried green gunk and what appeared to be blood. The sight of anything resembling blood obviously sent Z and I into action – Texas was quickly whisked to his changing table – where he lay startled as saline spray was blasted up his tiny nostrils and grape-flavored Boogie Wipes were coming at his from four different directions.

After we were confident that there were not opened wounds or objects (other than green gunk) up his nose he was released to wonder his playroom making car noises while we continued to dress. It was during a crazed trip downstairs to look for missing pants that I peeked into his playroom to see his tiny little finger lodged firmly and entirely too far up his nose – the same tiny little nose that minutes before had prompted an all-hands-on-deck examination.

I can only suppose that this is the first in long string of events which will cause me to cringe and reply ‘ boy – if you don’t want it to bleed – quick picking at it’.