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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.

Comment for The Iranian letters section Comment for the writer Siamack Salari