Digging For Gold

Someone very wise said to me recently, “It’s not a coincidence that our fingers are just the right size to fit in our nose.” Truer words have never been spoken.

You all pick your nose, at least once in a while, even if you are the type who uses a tissue to avoid direct booger contact. Whenever I have been a passenger on a long road trip I have seen countless drivers getting up in there. Why are we all so compelled to pick while we drive? Maybe it’s the solitude a car provides or maybe the road inspires people to clean out before they get where they’re going.

Nothing is worse than a rogue booger; when you spot one, you want to listen to what the person is saying but all you can do is stare at the booger. I know the right thing to do is tell the person about it so they can remove it, and it would be worse to let them walk around with it dangling there, but it’s a hard thing to say. You know that the moments while they have to pick it in front of you are going to be horrifying and they are going to have to come up with something to say to break the silence like, “Oh jeez, I was saving that for later!” (insert awkward laughter here).

I’m not sure why this topic is taboo, we all have snot in common, but nobody talks about it. More than that, most people actively deny that they ever go digging, but I’m not buying it. I can’t prove that everyone does it, but I know how it feels to have a big crusty booger up there, it’s uncomfortable and it needs to be dislodged. Blowing your nose just doesn’t cut it, the gooey ones always stick to the little hairs, it’s unavoidable and nothing works better than a finger. Some work better than others for different jobs, for example, the index finger is good for average jobs and big ones near the nostril but nothing tops a swirl of the pinky for the deep dive.

I think we should all stop hiding behind tissues and handkerchiefs and just admit “I pick my nose”, it’s a good lesson in candor. Although I think the bus stops there; something tells me there is no room in this world for the select few who would then admit, “I eat it.”