God Damn the Booger Man

I'm pretty sure all parents do things that are against their better judgment at times for the sake of cheering up or appeasing their child. Sometimes it's ice-cream when you know they shouldn't have it, or letting them watch another show. Sometimes we do things that make us look stupid, like performing an elaborate clown show or singing a song at the top of our lungs just to get a smile. Or we do something that can hurt us, like carrying a sick child way more than our old backs can handle.

Well, last time Boo was sick, I set in motion a little game called "Booger Man." He was feverish, which made him listless, clingy, and miserable. He's usually so happy-go-lucky and energetic that it's always hard to see him that way. At one point, as I was giving him a cuddle, he swiped his boogery nose across my face. "Oh, yuck! You got me, Booger Man!" I said cheerfully. I seem to consistently forget that nothing makes Boo happier than hearing me say "Yuck" about something he did. His face lit up with a smile and he promptly set about trying to repeat the performance. He pushed his little nose up towards my face, and if I evaded him, he got my arm, shoulder, or whatever he could. I was glad to see him having fun and we were both in giggles, despite the disgusting nature of what was happening. And so Booger Man was born.

That was about a month ago. Booger Man is still thriving. Now, when I ask Boo for a kiss, he takes the opportunity to say "You got me, Booga Man! No, No, Booga Man!" and wipe his nose on my face. He walks up to me and rubs his nose on my leg while I'm doing something in the kitchen. Even when he's in the middle of a meltdown, he will sometimes register that he has a good Booger Man opportunity and wipe his nose up and down my arm. When he can see the smear of wet on my clothes, he is very satisfied, pointing it out with his little finger, "Look at dat Booga Man!" The more I fight, the more fun it is for him. The game never fails to overjoy him, and I admit that it's hard for me not to laugh when he does it. I have a high tolerance for gross that has only increased with motherhood.

My husband, however, has a very low tolerance for gross. When he learned about Booger Man, he had a hard time understanding why I had allowed this game to begin. "Well, he was sick, and it cheered him up, so...." was not a satisfying explanation for him. And Booger Man does not just attack Mommies. He attacks his dad with equal ferocity. And when his Grandma (who we call Mama Cool) was in town, he attacked her too. I began to see the hazards of this game. While even gross-averse Dad has to smile at his giggling, goofball son, and gross-tolerant Mama Cool was OK with the game, I'm sure the buck stops not far from there. Aunties and cousins may not be so into having booger smeared on their clothes or skin, no matter how affectionate it may be.

And then the other day, he crossed the gross threshold even for me. I was getting dressed in our bedroom when he came up behind me, grabbed my butt firmly between his hands, and, yelling "I'm gonna get you Booger Man!" pushed his nose into my (thankfully, underwear covered) bum, um, how do you say--center? He swiped it back and forth with all the more determination when I put up a fight, flapping my hand behind to push him away. He hung on and followed when I tried to walk away. It was truly over the line.

So how do I stop this super-hero persona that has gone out of control? I'm hoping that Booger Man will just pass quietly into the night after a while. And maybe I can try to remember not to use words like "Yuck" or "Gross" or "Booger," which only seem to encourage him. But for now, the monster is in motion. So...anyone who hangs out with the Boodge, be warned. If you see him coming at you with his nose pushed out and a grin on his face, run. Run and climb on something at least 3 feet high. Or else, be prepared to do a little extra laundry.