Covert Operations of the Kiddie Variety

If anyone has read my essay in MotherVerse Vol. 8, you know it's about my son, his nose, some ripped up paper, and an unfortunate but necessary hospital visit.

That happened when he was about three years old. I thought for sure he'd learnt his lesson, especially as he's incredibly embarrassed that not only has his mommy written a story about him doing a very silly thing indeed, but it is also now published (although, after I read it to him, he did admit that it was funny).

So one would think that he would be incredibly wary of sticking paper in orifices where they don't belong - especially now that he's six years old. I mean, he wouldn't want to end up having anything more written about him, right?

You can see where this is going, can't you?

Over Memorial Day weekend, my son hopped up onto my lap. I thought it was a perfect time to check out the ear wax situation in his ears. I saw what I thought was an enormous ball of wax and decided to do something about it.

Of course, it turned out to not be a ball of wax at all.

"What in God's name is in your ear?" I asked.

After some stammering, the story came out. Apparently at school sometime the week before, his friends had been using straws as phones in a covert playground operation. My son did not have a straw, so he decided to go wireless and inserted a spitball sized piece of paper in his ear. After discovering it was stuck, he tried to dig it out. His friends assured him it was gone.

Well, it wasn't. And when I had decided to do a surprise ear wax inspection, I discovered it.
After my own covert operation involving a nail cuticle thing (y'know - small, thin, with a little scoop on the end - which I totally recommend investing in, in case you ever need to get a spitball out of your child's ear), a lot of squinting and one tiny piece of paper, we were in the clear.

I was, anyway. El Nino, on the other hand, had to sit down and write "I will not stick paper in my ears" ten times. That doesn't seem like a lot, but it took him about forty-five minutes (because of all the whining and complaining), so it was a pretty good punishment.

I swear, only my child.