When I was a small child, I can remember my mother telling me not to pick my nose. I remember going to school and hearing the teacher scold another child for eating the fruits of that labor.
Booger pickers do not always grow up and over their obsession, however. Some people just simply can't resist poking the fingers up the nose to dig and root around for a prize. It's certainly gratifying to get an annoyance out of that private nook of the body.
I do believe that stop lights are the favorite areas for adventures into the nasal passages. What is it about stop lights that encourage the public to delve into their noses for the annoying booger that bothered them since they left the office? It seems to be a contest some days on who can pick the best booger at the stop light.
There is no doubt that this same person who dares to dig at the stop light wouldn't be caught digging anywhere else. They can't seem to process the fact that a car with closed windows does not necessarily mean complete privacy to dig for nose monsters. Unless you have window tint that is so black so as not to allow anyone outside to view inside, there is little chance that you will go undetected while you pick your prize booger.
Booger wars are supposed to be one of those disgusting little habits that only children find inviting. I beg to differ, however, since I have observed far too often in my adulthood that it is not one easily left behind with childhood. I even saw one man mounted on a motorcycle, digging with supposedly unabashed shame as he waited for the light to change. He was a proud digger indeed to share his obsession with no outward embarrassment in the middle of a crowded intersection! No car windows to hide behind for him. No, sir. He was going after that booger before it came after him.
Maybe this is one of those things we are supposed to pretend we don't see. But, can you truly pretend you don't see it and then have to worry about exactly where that prize will be deposited? I carried a child with me one day who sat in the backseat of my truck. He began to dig. I, being quite proud of my newly acquired vehicle, could not resist calling him out of his shocking journey into his own private booger adventure. He swore he had not dug in his nose. I begged to differ because I had glanced up into the rear view mirror just as he reached into his nose. It was appalling to me that this child might dare to wipe his new prize on my new seat. I threatened him that I had better not find any boogers on my new seat. There were none there, to be sure, so I assume he had wiped whatever he had encountered on his pants. Since I was not in charge of washing his laundry, I was fine with that. Let his mother concern herself with his new friends.
Yes, boogers are and always will be a private horror for some of us. As for those who enjoy booger digging, please don't ride in my truck. It's not new anymore, but I still take pride in keeping it clean. No booger pickers allowed!
