I live with the Boogey Man -- and that's snot a lie.

So far, we've been really lucky that Park hasn't caught a cold, projectile vomited or had any more than some major thunder down under (if you know what I mean). But yesterday he woke up wheezing really bad and I was pretty sure our day was going to be spent at the doctor's office where he would either send us home with drugs or tell me the little guy was allergic to the dogs. Luckily, the diagnosis was much simpler, thanks to Super Dad.

You see, I'm scared of everything in our first aid kit. I dread the day I have to take a temperature (rectal is best, so I read) and I've been gently tearing off fingernails rather than risk scarring the little guy's finger tips with the clippers. But yesterday's wheezing was Craig's opportunity to give our nasal aspirator a run for its money. While Park rocked innocently in his little chair, Craig sucked and sucked at his nose until a booger came out "like a clown's silk handkerchief." Once he finally saw the other end, the wheezing was gone. No doctor's visit. No drugs. Just one nice move from the Boogey Man.