My Grandma Norma fought a long battle against bone cancer and eventually passed away just before I started second grade. Since she passed so early in my life, I don't have a lot of memories of her, but I do remember black cherry Jell-O with Cool Whip, snowstorms so bad we had to hold on to a rope tied between the house and the barn when we needed to go feed the animals, and a very deep and life-changing discussion about boogers.

I was probably about 4 or 5-years old when she caught me digging for that golden treasure. She sat me down in the kitchen and told me how it wasn't very lady-like to pick your nose. Somehow our conversation meandered into booger-eating territory and she told me all about how that was just plain yucky. She even went so far as to demonstrate. I learned a valuable lesson that day and never again got caught picking my nose.

Now that I'm adult (sort of), I'm willing to argue that EVERYBODY has times when the only way to get the treasure out is to go digging, but I can absolutely agree with Grandma Norma that you shouldn't get caught with the pinky shovel up a nostril. There should be no picking while sitting at your desk. There should be no picking while shopping. There should be no picking while at the movie theater. There should be no picking while in the car, despite the feeling of invisibility inside all that metal and glass. You have to save the treasure hunting for a time and place when you are truly all alone.

This evening as we were driving back from our usual bike ride, I glanced over at Alexis and caught the sweet child knuckle deep digging for gremlins. I said, "Alexis, please don't pick your nose." She responded by yanking her finger out of her nostril and shoving it in her mouth. Then she cackled with glee.

I think I need Grandma Norma to come explain about boogers.