I just performed surgery.

sur·ger·y ˈsərj(ə)rē/
noun: surgery; plural noun: surgeries
  1. the treatment of injuries or disorders of the body by incision or manipulation, especially with instruments.

I had just gotten off  the phone with my mama. She called to tell me that Brad Pitt and Jolene, AKA Angelina Jolie, do not let their kids use the internet. The big kids were already in bed. As I wagged baby boy around on my hip, I picked up a few toys and contemplated the Pitt’s parenting practices. I was imagining each of their children sitting in a room playing solitaire while a nearby nanny secretly glanced at her phone. Suddenly, Bubba appeared in the doorway looking very guilty. “Mama, there is a makeup thingie in my nose,” he said.


“A makeup spongy is in my nose.”

“That’s crazy, what are you talking about? You put something in your nose?”

“Yes Mam! WahhhhhAhhhhhWahhhhh!”

“Well that’s just great.” (I can no longer control my sarcasm.)

I put down the now screaming baby boy and looked up Bubba’s nose. I couldn’t see anything.

“Are you sure,” I asked.

“Yesssss Maaaaammmm!”

“Grrrrrrr Why?”

“I don’t know; it was soft.”

I put him on the floor (surgical table) and grabbed a nearby lamp. I told him to blow his nose. Nothing came out. I couldn’t see anything. I almost googled Can you let your child go to sleep if they say they stuck something up their nose? But my mama’s voice was playing in my ear, “You know, Brad Pitt and Jolene don’t even let their kids look at the internet. You need to watch that.”

Ugh! Both boys were freaking out. Baby boy because he is apparently opposed to any location other than my hip, and Bubba because he didn’t want to go to the hospital like last year when Sissy said he swallowed metal (a whole other story).  I needed more tools; bulb syringe, tweezers, and a bobby pin.


I sucked his nose with the bulb syringe and looked again. There it was. The end of an eye shadow applicator. It just wouldn’t come out. I tried the tweezers, but they wouldn’t fit. Bubba screamed. (Good, that little stinker needed to feel a some pain.) I used the bobby pin to push it against one side of his nose and slid it out.

Bubba was so relieved. Of course, I gave him a whole speech about putting things in your nose; he yawned and climbed into bed. I covered him and loved him while baby boy screamed and sister shook her head.

I wonder if any of those Pitt kids have ever put anything in their nose? Probably.




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