True story, this week, Birmingham metropolitan area.
Two brothers. Two years old, each. Correct, they are twins.
First boy comes running up to pre-school teacher.
“I’ve got a rock in my nose,” the young one says.
No, really? The teacher is skeptical but concerned.
Then she ran her fingers over the outside of his nose. Pebble pops out.
“See,” said the giddy kiddie. “I put it there.”
(Lecture follows about never putting rocks in orifices.)
At this time, brother runs up, equally giddy.
“I have a bean up my nose,” he posits.
No! Teacher approaching exasperation mode.
She looked but could not see a bean.
Are you sure? Teacher asks.
“I put a bean in my nose,” says the chortling darling.
Teacher is concerned but not positive because of boy’s history of tall tales, but brother had a pebble in his nose. Hmmmm.
Teacher rushes child to office where flashlight was employed. Light flooded the nasal canal but still no visual on said bean.
Are you sure you have a bean up your nose? The fledgling otolaryngologists queried.
Shoulders shrugged, hands palms up, smiling, the boy said, “I put a bean up my nose.”
“Here blow your nose,” one said, handing him a tissue.
He took the tissue and did a giant nostril sniffy, not a nosey blowsy.
No. No. No. came the chorus of fledgling ENTs. “BLOW”
Sure as shooting, a bean came flying out.
Sources say there is no truth to the rumors that the bean — an uncooked Pinto — went through a plate glass window like a bullet.
Moral of the story: Who nose where you bean?