Last night, after Maddie and I had fallen asleep, Trev came in and stood next to the bed.
(A little background - the den is right next to our bedroom, there is a doorway but no door between them, and our children sleep in the same room as us. So he was watching tv about ten feet away from my bed while I slept.)
He woke me up, upset. With what looked to be a sharp, pokey thing in his hand.
"Mom. I put three of those things in my nose (those thrice-damned bean bag styrofoam bean things), and i got some out, but now I have the other ones stuck in there. I want to get it out with this...." and holds up a long, black bobby pin.
Oh my God!
I shouted at him. Yes, I did. 'Bout gave me a heart attack.
Between the middle of the night awake fast-like and seeing what looked like a ten inch long glowing needle that he was going to jam into his nose to rescue himself (shudder) I freaked.
After shouting, "Blow!"
"Again!" Out it pops.
"Blow!" Out it comes.
"Are there more???"
"No," squeaks Little Son.
"Never again. Do you hear me? Never again!!!"
He started to cry.
I was very near to tears myself for shouting at him. My only excuse is that I went from asleep to terrified in less than a blink.
"It's hard to feel Destined For Greatness when you're crying," says He.
But not with styrofoam beans halfway to your brain, evidently.