Dear Gigantic Booger On The O Of My Keyboard,
Today started off just like every other; coercing kids who would rather play Minecraft into getting ready for school, swallowing the peculiar angst that accompanies determining ingenious ways to pack lunch for a 5-year-old who refuses to eat sandwiches, and trying to piece together enough time to throw my hair in a pony tail, slug down a cup of coffee, and, if I’m batting a thousand that particular day, poop with the door open while helping to tie a size 1 pair of shoes.
After cereal and milk was administered, ingested, and slopped all over the table in equal parts, my two freeloading roommates, also known as my children, antagonized and shoved each other all the way up the stairs to begrudgingly brush their random assortment of baby and adult teeth. As my 5-year-old squeezed an entire tube of sparkly Kids Crest onto the vanity and my 8-year-old perfected his long, swooped-only-to-the-left bangs, I darted back into my room to locate what is known as a “bra,” in order to prevent being mistaken for a National Geographic cover model when I escorted them to the bus stop.
Cowlicks were half-heartedly tamed with a wet palm, as I maneuvered the walking backpacks out the door. Once they were safely on The Yellow Beacon Of Hope, I returned home to enjoy a quiet cup of uninterrupted coffee while checking my email and vast array of social media. This is where things went amiss.
I walked into my office and placed my ridiculously oversized mug on the desk, while simultaneously leaning over to click the mouse and wake up my computer that was still sleeping like an entitled teenager. As I took a seat and scooted myself in towards the desk, that is when I saw you, Gigantic Booger, stuck there on the O of my keyboard, staring up at me, like some filthy little ogre.
Were you unknowingly propelled by the force of a childs sneeze, or perhaps picked unwillingly from your natural habitat inside the confines of a kindergarteners nose? Were you intentionally smeared across the O? Did you bear witness to stifled giggles and racing footsteps, indicative of mischievousness? Gigantic Booger, let’s cut to the chase. All I really want to know, is which kid is responsible for your besmirchment? I’m quite aware that the little one has an occasional and utterly repulsive penchant for nose snacking, and that the older one can be so absent-minded at times, that I question whether or not he may have early onset Alzheimer’s. There is a slim chance, Gigantic Booger, that you simply tumbled from the nose of a hyper focused child, who then squashed you while banging keys in attempts of killing Creepers and Endermen?
Gigantic Booger, I realize that as such, you do not have a brain, or a mouth from which to speak, nor do I possess the necessary knowledge or supplies to conduct an actual fingerprint dusting. After lengthy reflection, I have come to the conclusion that there are two ways to remedy the situation. First, your immediate expungment and removal by means of a Clorox Cleanup Wipe. Secondly, by removing two members of your extended family from the inside of my own nose, and then casually smearing them across the fronts of both of their iTouches.
Categories: Open Letters