Tuesday, June 1, 2010

A Tiny Tank Cannon. And A Nose.

I was having a lovely afternoon sitting on my sofa, sipping fresh iced tea I let steep in the sun this weekend, working and chatting on IM with Jenn when she sends me a note saying she had to put her daughter down for a nap. No worries here, I heard screaming from the back bedrooms and thought my Bear, who had stayed home from school with a fever, was up from his "nap" and needed some milk and a snuggle. But then I realized it was actually Bug who was screaming from his room where he was also supposed to be napping.

I opened the door to find him sitting up in bed with his hands to his face. His expression was contorted and he kept screaming "I have a bad itch in my nose." I tried to shush him lest he wake Bear but he wasn't having any of it. I scooped him up and carried him across the house to our bathroom, sat him down and said "Now what is going on?!" He repeats he has a bad itch in his nose. I get a tissue. He tries to blow his nose and he screams.

That's not right.

After a few deep breaths together to calm us both down he wails "There is a gun in my nose!"

WHAT?!

"MygreentankgunisinmynoseandItriedtowipeitoutbutit'sstuckupthere."

I rush to his room and find the green matchbox size army tank on his floor and think maybe the huge cannon arm on the front just scratched his nose. (But why the hell was it up your nose kid?!) The thing looked intact.

As he and I discussed the problem I realized that hey, there is tiny looking cannon behind the big cannon and "what is that tiny hole right next to the tiny cannon?"

Yeah. There's supposed to be two tiny cannons behind the big cannon.



Not really sure what to believe, I fetch a flashlight and see nothing up his nose.

After a quick call to the doctor to ask "what the heck do I do because I don't see anything but he insists it's up there?," they suggest I bring him in. So Hubs came home from work to stay with the still sleeping (thank you!) Bear.

After a 30 minute ride to the pediatrician and an hour wait in the lobby, we see our favorite doctor ever. Bug is all cheerful again because the gun thing must have settled in to place and isn't really bothering him except for the stream of clear snot running down his lip that he tells me I can only wipe gingerly and "NO MOMMY I WILL NOT BLOW MY NOSE AGAIN."

She asks him what's wrong and immediately he says in a sweet sing-song voice. "Oh I have a gun up my nose from my green tank and it's just a little bit stuck up in there."

I showed her the tank and she grimaces, then checks him out. The look she gave me as she said "Oh I can see it" was a mixture of horror, nausea and laughter. She got some scary looking tools and a nurse and explained to Bug that she had to get it out because it would make bad boogers, he couldn't move when she did it or it'd hurt, and she didn't want it to hurt him. I love her. Bug totally was like "yeah ok, that would be bad." And despite the nurse holding his arms and me holding his legs, my kid didn't flinch any muscle except his eyebrows as it took her two minutes and a lot of determination to dislodge the tiny cannon.



Bug's reaction to this?

"Oh I feel so much better without a gun up my nose!"

And

"Now I can have GOOD BOOGERS!!!!!!! I can shoot good boogers from my nose. HAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAA!"

She told me I made her day bringing him in.



Later Hubs asked Bug how he got the gun up his nose. He replied "Oh I just put it between my finger and my thumb and it swirled around and got stuck up there."

Yeah. I am raising boys.