Emma and I were lying down and talking about the day. And then she suddenly did a little gasp, pointed at my face, and said, "What's that?"I started to wipe my face with my hands, and after I found no stray pieces of food or electronic equipment, I didn't know what Emma seemed so horrified about. I feared asking her if she was just disgusted with the way I looked because I just spent our tax return on my latest botox session.
"Emma," I asked. "What are you pointing at?"
"There! In your nose!" she exclaimed.
"Oh? Do I have a boogie in my nose?" I asked.
"No. It's black!" she said with urgency.
I wondered what could be inside my nose that was black. A dirt booger? Food? A pygmy? I started to dig around my nose and finally realized that Emma was probably talking about my nostril hairs.
"Are you talking about my nose hairs?" I said to Emma.
"Nose hair?" She was shocked to even think that hair could grow inside your nose.
"Yah. When you get older, you start to grow hair inside your nose. Daddy probably just needs to trim his nose hairs. That's all," I explained to Emma.
She continued to stare at my nose and then rightfully said, "Well, that's just gross."
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