The Yogos Incident

In case you were unaware, I have a daughter. A gorgeous daughter, one who is smart, crafty, and empathic in every way. She’s also mildly precocious.

What? You don’t believe me?

Let me take you to my world a moment.

Today, I was working on some Photographs on the computer while my daughter worked on a bag of Yogos while watching Spongebob when suddenly she headed up the stairs, quietly. Now, I thought nothing of it. She often uses the upstairs bathroom randomly for privacy and the like, so I let her on her merry way.

A few minutes pass.

Suddenly I hear it. Weeping from upstairs.

I give chase and find her shut into her grandmother’s bedroom, refusing to let anyone come in. I open the door as she screams, “No, you can’t come in! You can’t see!” and find her with her finger jammed as far in her nose as it will go. Now, her weeping was genuine, so I was worried, but I didn’t let it show.

“Mebhy, honey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing!” Still weeping aggressively, obviously something is.

That’s when I asked, “Mebhy D. Do you have a Yogo up your nose?”


“Do you have anything up your nose?”


“Then what’s wrong?”

“I can’t tell you, it’s too horrible! I don’t want you to be upset!”

“Well, if there is nothing up your nose, take your finger out, please. And if you don’t tell me, honey, how can I fix it?”

The finger comes free as does the truth, “I have a YOGO UP MY NOSE!”

I immediately think a few things, “Damn, I’m good.”, “Not surprising, given those pixos you jammed in your ears two months ago”, “Aawww…poor baby. How the hell am I gonna get THAT out?”, and “sweet, impromptu Doctors visit!” Mebhy D

Then I said, “It’s ok, baby. You’re all right.”

I calmly grab a tissue, have her blow; blue boogies. I grab another, have her blow like she’s never blown before; blue boogies and a partially disintegrated Yogo. If you have ever needed a definition for relief, that moment was it.

She bawled for a wee bit, embarrassed and explained that she had tried to fix it herself by finding things to jam up her nose and try to get it out because she remembered how Momma threw away the Pixos as a point after she miraculously managed to massage the rage pellets from hell out of her four year old’s ear canals back in March without involving a doctor and tweezers.

It was funny, though I felt so thoroughly for her. Yet, another Mebhy D crisis averted by supermom.

Thank you, thank you. No applause necessary. That snot filled tissue with a Yogo in it was enough.


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