So we go to church Sunday, and then have to stop at Walmart on the way home. G and L ask for a package of those new "Yo-Go's" fruit snacks at the checkout counter. I get them some, because, hey, I'm not above buying my children off to be QUIET for five minutes.
We're driving home, and the kids are making their typical little noises in the backseat (alright...fighting, whining, and throwing things), when all of a sudden, G gets REALLY quiet. Hubby turns around and sees that G has a weird look on his face. I turn around and verify that G does NOT seem to be acting normal all of a sudden.
We are just a few minutes from home, and we start asking him what's wrong.
Did you wet your pants? No.
Did you POOP your pants? No.
Does your tummy hurt? No.
Do you have a boo-boo? No.
Did you drop your toy animals? No.
G! What is WRONG?
Then hubby looks at him more closely, as we are at a stoplight.
G, did you put something up your NOSE? No! *turns head away*
OMG, we got him to nearly four years of age without having anything stuck in him, not counting the green bean in his ear at 10 months, and he has STUCK A YO-GO UP HIS FREAKING NOSE.
Cue me laughing hysterically with tears running down my face. Because I am a caring, sensitive mother.
But then, I start alternating between uncontrollable sobs, frightened for my firstborn's well-being, and rip-snorting-toe-curling laughter. If you've never experienced THAT emotion, let me tell you, it's very strange...my husband will testify.
So I call my aunt, who has two boys who I assume have SURELY stuck things up their noses and may have some advice as to what we should do, but since I can't even compose myself enough to tell her what has happened, I pass the phone to hubby.
He talks with her and says we should just get home and try to remove it ourselves.
I hear G sniffling and am SURE that he is wedging that Yo-Go right up into his sinus cavity.
So I demand, between the laughing and crying, that hubby pull over at the next parking lot, which happens to be the Hottie Dog Stand (classy - I know). I try to get him to blow his nose, but instead, he sucks IN. He hasn't exactly got the hang of blowing yet, and that would have really come in handy about now.
We hurry home and take G to the bathroom, where hubby begins to poke around in there with a Q-TIP! "What are you DOING? You're going to shove it further in! Use the TWEEZERS!" I demand, as G looks more and more terrified.
"I can't get the tweezers in - it's too far up. We may HAVE to go to the doctor."
OMG. Panic mode. I begin to fear that an 88 cent package of Yo-Go's is really going to end up costing more like $250, when we get the ER bill.
So hubby has one more technique to try...he gets out that tool they use at the dentist to poke at your teeth, you know, the one with an inch long, shiny metal hook at the end? Of course G sees that, covers his nose, and RUNS. And L is standing by, helpfully telling G, "S'okay....we go to docccctor. Docccctor get it out at hossssspital. S'okay, bubby."
I can't bear to hold him down to let hubby STICK A HOOK in G's nose, so I tell him once again to BLOW, really hard. Hubby massages the outside of his nose, trying to work the candy out, and I close his other nostril with my finger as he blows.
I guess the fear of hospitals, tweezers, and hooks inspired him, because the Yo-Go came SHOOTING out, and I mean shooting, with an arc and everything, like you would see in a movie.
Hubby and I are still hysterically laughing, and L decides to join in, throwing her head back and belly laughing. G runs to his room covering his nose.
I know we shouldn't have laughed - he'll probably remember that forever. "Remember mom, when you made fun of me because I had something stuck up my nose? I've never forgiven you for that."
But hey, we saved money not going to the ER, so I'll just chuck that cash away into his therapy fund.
We're driving home, and the kids are making their typical little noises in the backseat (alright...fighting, whining, and throwing things), when all of a sudden, G gets REALLY quiet. Hubby turns around and sees that G has a weird look on his face. I turn around and verify that G does NOT seem to be acting normal all of a sudden.
We are just a few minutes from home, and we start asking him what's wrong.
Did you wet your pants? No.
Did you POOP your pants? No.
Does your tummy hurt? No.
Do you have a boo-boo? No.
Did you drop your toy animals? No.
G! What is WRONG?
Then hubby looks at him more closely, as we are at a stoplight.
G, did you put something up your NOSE? No! *turns head away*
OMG, we got him to nearly four years of age without having anything stuck in him, not counting the green bean in his ear at 10 months, and he has STUCK A YO-GO UP HIS FREAKING NOSE.
Cue me laughing hysterically with tears running down my face. Because I am a caring, sensitive mother.
But then, I start alternating between uncontrollable sobs, frightened for my firstborn's well-being, and rip-snorting-toe-curling laughter. If you've never experienced THAT emotion, let me tell you, it's very strange...my husband will testify.
So I call my aunt, who has two boys who I assume have SURELY stuck things up their noses and may have some advice as to what we should do, but since I can't even compose myself enough to tell her what has happened, I pass the phone to hubby.
He talks with her and says we should just get home and try to remove it ourselves.
I hear G sniffling and am SURE that he is wedging that Yo-Go right up into his sinus cavity.
So I demand, between the laughing and crying, that hubby pull over at the next parking lot, which happens to be the Hottie Dog Stand (classy - I know). I try to get him to blow his nose, but instead, he sucks IN. He hasn't exactly got the hang of blowing yet, and that would have really come in handy about now.
We hurry home and take G to the bathroom, where hubby begins to poke around in there with a Q-TIP! "What are you DOING? You're going to shove it further in! Use the TWEEZERS!" I demand, as G looks more and more terrified.
"I can't get the tweezers in - it's too far up. We may HAVE to go to the doctor."
OMG. Panic mode. I begin to fear that an 88 cent package of Yo-Go's is really going to end up costing more like $250, when we get the ER bill.
So hubby has one more technique to try...he gets out that tool they use at the dentist to poke at your teeth, you know, the one with an inch long, shiny metal hook at the end? Of course G sees that, covers his nose, and RUNS. And L is standing by, helpfully telling G, "S'okay....we go to docccctor. Docccctor get it out at hossssspital. S'okay, bubby."
I can't bear to hold him down to let hubby STICK A HOOK in G's nose, so I tell him once again to BLOW, really hard. Hubby massages the outside of his nose, trying to work the candy out, and I close his other nostril with my finger as he blows.
I guess the fear of hospitals, tweezers, and hooks inspired him, because the Yo-Go came SHOOTING out, and I mean shooting, with an arc and everything, like you would see in a movie.
Hubby and I are still hysterically laughing, and L decides to join in, throwing her head back and belly laughing. G runs to his room covering his nose.
I know we shouldn't have laughed - he'll probably remember that forever. "Remember mom, when you made fun of me because I had something stuck up my nose? I've never forgiven you for that."
But hey, we saved money not going to the ER, so I'll just chuck that cash away into his therapy fund.
10 Comments:
Oh, sister... I feel your pain. My boys stuck all kinds of crap in every possible hole they could find wether it was thiers or not!
Nothing beats my little sister though. I remember when she was really little she had a habit of rolling up Kleenex and shoving it up her nose (to dry up the snot, obviously). The major trouble with that is that tissue dissolves very quickly! So we see Amanda in the backseat of the car doing the same thing that G did and she had shoved it up SO far that you could only see a tiny bit. We thought that it must not be too big, but oh we were wrong. She had shoved a quarter of a Kleenex up into her freakin sinuses! So, trip to the ER follows and by this time my Dad is PISSED!! He is screaming as he drives into the ER parking lot and in a fit he stops the car and jumps into the backseat with Amanda. Now by this time we are in the ER parking lot a mere feet from the door, but my father is uber-angry and has NO intention of paying an ER bill, so what does my crazy dad do? He digs out with his car keys!!! I have never seen my sister scream that much and I have never seen either of my parents so pissed. I'm pretty sure that was one of those moments that secured their divorce, but who can really say? So, you are not alone.
I'd have laughed, too.
And it's probably better if he DOES remember this - maybe that will keep him from putting more things UP HIS NOSE!! lol
How hilarious...I don't blame you for laughing. I would have done the same thing.
Okay, that one ties with the "I fell in puke" story! Stacey, I wish I had been there to see that! Hysterical!!!
That was hysterical! Gotta love your daughter's response also. How cute is that?
I also love how you phrased your reasoning for buying your kids stuff at the checkout. TOTALLY true.
:) :) :) that was too funny!
Taylor's object of choice is cherrios. Been there, done that... too funny!!!
Oh my goodness. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry or have a nervous breakdown for you. Such a rollercoaster of emotions. I'm glad you are all alright. Oh, and the laugh/cry/throwup reaction - yeah, that's totally me when my kids are sick, or do something infamely stupid or when I'm really, really, REALLY scared. It's a pathetic and complicated emotion, but I totally get it - you aren't alone! Good luck keeping stuff out of their orifaces!! :)
Ah, the joys of motherhood, being a grandma is so much easier. You can love them, kiss them, hold, them, and send them home to Mama when then they stick things up their noses.
You resolved this problem magnificently. You may have to change your name to Magnificent Mama.
Is it wrong that I want to see a picture of the Yo-Go? How small are they that they can get lodged in a child's nostril?
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