I had every intention of writing about what a great weekend we had. First a trip to Angel Island with friends. Took the ferry over and then road bikes and flew kites on a perfect day in San Francisco. And on Sunday we strolled around at the Art fair on our main street and I bought fabulous earrings from my favorite jewelry guy and then we opened BBQ season at my brother's surf shack in Santa Cruz with some tasty brats (the hot dogs - not my kids) and played a ridiculous game called Munch the Box which may or may not have caused me to pull a muscle in my ass. A story for another time.
Instead I will bring you closer to my daily reality with a saucy tale of a little girl who put a hama bead in her nose (those beads that you puts on little peg boards and iron them and they become pretty multicolored plastic thingies). And then some time after she did this asked me to get it out.
Me: Get what out?
Her: The bead.
Me: The bee? You need to blow your nose? Bee in your nose?
She blows her nose and nothing comes out. Then I realize she's said BEAD. Like a piece of PLASTIC WITH A HOLE IN THE MIDDLE THAT AIR BLOWS RIGHT THROUGH.
Crap. If I have to take her to the ER because she's got a bead jammed up her nose I am not going to be happy...
Me: (with mildly panicked voice) YOU HAVE A BEAD UP YOUR NOSE?
Me: (panic growing) DID YOU REALLY STICK A BEAD UP YOUR NOSE?
Me: Tell me what you did?!!?!?
She finally admits that she did in fact put the bead up her nose and now she's terrified because I'm coming at her with a tweezers and a flashlight but eventually we
This was not in my job description.