I swear I didn’t do it.
In fact I can’t stand it when I see others do it.
Most often it’s kids that do it.
And then men.
And when adults do it, it’s usually while they’re in their car.
At least that’s when I see them doing it.
And I have to say that I’ve never done it either.
I know, I know . . .
I looked like I did yesterday.
But I didn’t.
And it’s not my fault that it looked like I did either.
It’s that damn cold’s fault.
The one I had a few weeks ago . . .
That has lingering effects . . .
Like still having to blow my nose many times a day.
And what has happened because of all this incessant blowing . . .
Is that a tiny sore developed on the inside of my nose . . .
If I don’t keep Vaseline on it, or some other cream . . .
A scab forms . . .
Hardens . . .
With nose hairs in it and . . .
So you see?
I wasn’t “picking” my nose . . .
I was freeing some poor unwilling nose hairs that got caught.
And if I didn’t free them . . .
Tears were going to come to my eyes . . .
With every song I sang . . .
Causing me to sneeze.
See where I’m headed?
I was driving . . .
Singing, "Rah-rah-ah-ah-ah," from Lady Gaga’s song, “Bad Romance.”
And the bloody scab kept tugging the stuck nose hairs . . .
And if I didn’t get that scab out . . .
I was going to go crazy!
Or at least sneeze while driving . . .
And potentially cause an accident!
Unfortunately . . .
As I reached for a tissue . . .
A car full of teenagers pulled next to me at the light.
Maybe because both cars were jamming to Lady Gaga . . .
And we were swaying in our cars to the same Rah-rah beat . . .
I turned to look at them . . .
At the same time they turned to look at me . . .
Which was the same time my tissue-wrapped finger . . .
Was digging half-way up my nose.
Now, I can’t read lips . . .
But it’s wasn’t hard to decipher what their mouths were yelling.
But I swear!
I wasn’t “picking” my nose.
Just eliminating a potential driving hazard.