With a title like that, I suppose I need explain very little.
But to set the scene: Mica came running to me one evening recently, crying. After only a couple of red herrings she managed to communicate that she had something in her nose, and was not happy about the fact.
She led me to a scene of destruction from earlier that day, where she’d spent long happy minutes cutting apart a cheap Mardi Gras necklace into individual beads. These beads, so round and blue and temptingly-sized, had apparently called to her, reaching deep into her toddler heart to whisper an irresistible siren call: “Put me in your nose.”
To be fair, I’d heard of children putting things in their noses and ears — Google seems to think it happens a lot, based on its search results — but we’d made it through two toddlers without an incident. I suppose I was hoping that we’d just luck out. But fate had other plans, and Mica broke our winning streak.
We spent much of the evening trying to remove the bead ourselves. Asking her to blow her nose failed; she’s terrible at it. She didn’t want us trying to push it down from the outside; that seemed to hurt. And she was really, really not ok with someone trying to reach into her nose with, say, tweezers. After trying everything we could think of, including making a stab at it when she was asleep (hint: noses are still sensitive even in sleep), I resigned myself to the doctor next morning.
Our regular doctor had no more luck than we had, and sent us to an ear-nose-and-throat specialist. After all the work and trauma, I was therefore astonished by the solution that actually worked for us. The doctor had us lean Mica back; she closed the other side of Mica’s nose; and she had me blow into her mouth, as though I was giving her mouth-to-mouth and wasn’t in the mood to be patient about it. Out that bead popped like a pellet from a gun.
Apparently this doesn’t always work — it’s most successful with smooth, round objects that are not too deep. But man, I wish I’d known that method before I spent all morning at doctor offices.
And I really, really hope this impressed on Mica the need to not put things in orifices.