Thursday, June 9, 2011


The other day, I made the super-wise decision to go running.  At 2:00 in the afternoon. 

When it was ninety-four degrees outside.

Clearly, I'm a genius.

You know those guys at the gym who get really sweaty, the kind where the sweat has basically soaked their entire outfit?  Well, multiply that times 5, and THAT is how much I sweat.

(Attractive.  I know.)

Also, somehow I actually sweat from my sinuses.  Yes.  Kind of like dogs sweat from their tongues.  I'm sure there is a logical, medical reason for this.

Or not.

Anyway, I finished my run, and noticed that my new neighbor was out planting flowers around her mailbox. I decide to go say hi, because I've decided that we should clearly be friends.

John comes out halfway through our conversation to say hey, and I notice he keeps looking at me funny.  I decide it's nothing, until we're walking back toward our house, and John is all, "hey.....don't freak out or anything.....but you have a huge booger in your right nostril."

Dear Husband,

First of all, thank you for prefacing with a "don't freak out."  You obviously know me so well.  Because I almost punched you right there on our front lawn for not telling me, you know, when it might've been convenient.  Like, say, while I was chatting up a storm with a booger DANGLING FROM MY NOSE.  I'm pretty sure our marital contract includes stipulations about telling each other when we have food stuck in our teeth, bad breath, and especially embarrassing booger situations!  What's that?  You didn't read that part? 


You are SO on your own next time you have broccoli in your teeth.


Your very sweaty wife, who, ironically, is very particular about having clear nostrils at all times, and who now has yet another embarrassing story to tell.  Let's just add it to the accidental flashing of your co-workers, the accidental flashing of my entire freshman dorm, and what I like to call "the communion incident." 

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