Thank God my parents were in town. Grandma held down the fort and Grandpa rode along to Urgent Care for moral support (Dad was working). After almost an hour wait, in which Elizabeth, the wandering jewel-stuffing toddler skipped about the Urgent Care waiting area, the 'object' was removed from her nose. The shiny-pink jewel, was in fact a small round pink bead. She later revealed it's origins--the laundry room floor. Fantastic.
I wasn't so much wondering where the bead came from, as to why she decided to trump my "me time" by sticking a foreign, although lovely, pink bead up her nostril. On the way home my Dad and I swapped innocent oraffice-stuffing stories. As a former elementary school principal, my father had seen it all. Even a pinto bean lodged precariously close to an ear drum.
"Why do they do it Dad?" I asked in exasperation. Why?
This led me to think about this: Why do I commit to 100 more things than I can possibly do? Why don't I make sure my girls are wearing underpants before going to a child's birthday party only to discover they're not (in line for a pony ride!), why did I tell my husband I wanted to stay overnight at his summer work party this weekend, then tell him I didn't, then tell him I did, and didn't again? And why was I resentful when he expressed confusion? I just did.
Analyze it, contemplate it, agonize over why. In the end it boils down to this: we all stick a bead in our nose. Some more often then others. Whatever the shape, size and complexion of your bead, don't spend tedious hours wondering why you stuffed it where you shouldn't . You may have to skip around a bit--let it irritate you awhile. It may fall out, or most likely someone will help you pull it out. When it's extracted, it might just be your most prized jewel. Or, it may be simply a disgusting bead from the laundry room floor.
