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If it fits, you must pick
Why can't I be allowed to enjoy my one and only vice in peace?
January 16, 2001
The Iranian
I attended the American Community School in Tehran on two separate occasions
(1969 and 1976). During 1969, as a four or five-year-old, I had a disgusting
habit, which I still have: nose picking.
I would pull strands of snot out of my nose and wipe them anywhere I
could, especially under my desk. The trick was to change desks during every
class so that I could have the fresh underside of a desk to wipe my snot
onto. I eventually used up every desk and resorted to using the underside
of the chairs.
Inevitably I was discovered, dragged in front of the class and forced
to hold my hand up high and show everyone the snot still clinging to my
fingers. There was a chorus of "Yuck!" and exclamations of disgust.
However, I don't recall feeling humiliated at the time. Even when the
teacher told my mum, her telling me off in the back of the car all the way
home fell on deaf ears. This incident served to only wisen me as to how
not to be caught next time.
Before long I discovered that I could pick my nose and wipe the contents
inside the pages of books we were give to read (they had to be given back
to the teacher so I had a fresh one each time).
I find nose picking therapeutic, relaxing and satisfying. Only problem
is that on several occasions my wife Varinder has actually slapped my hand
while my finger was still up my nose causing me enormous pain and the odd
drop of blood.
This is usually followed by a lecture about how she doesn't find me sexy
and how I take her for granted because I pick my nose in front of her. Not
true, I don't not take her for granted because if I did I would wipe my
snot all over the underside of our sofa cushions. I don't wipe my snot
all over the sofa cushions.
I don't understand why I can't be allowed to enjoy my one and only
vice in peace. I don't bite my nails, smell my fingers, snort, spit or scratch
my arse in public. Just let me pick my nose once in a while.
Nose picking is like when chimps and apes groom one another; they're
cleansing themselves. I like cleaning my own nose. I would never pick my
wife's nose for her.
Nose picking is a private, comforting and contemplative activity which
I am sure has been a human pastime since we first walked the earth and became
aware of our nostrils. After all, if whoever created us hadn't intended
us to pick our noses, why do we have fingers that so perfectly fit our nostrils
right up to the first joint?
Furthermore, why were we fitted with nails which can so cleanly prize
free the most stuck-on-to-the-nasal-hairs piece of dried bogie with only
slight watering of the eyes?
I have promised Varinder that I will put a stop to my habit as soon as
we have kids -- I don't want them to learn any bad habits from daddy.
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