Today I took my two littlest boys to the doctor to be checked for illness. How sweet they are at 3 (almost 4) and 1 1/2.  One- very much the big brother- the other-precocious toddler chirping words like “crack” (cracker), “pretz” (pretzel), “Whoah! Rain Day” (whoa- it is a rainy day!)… They wore matching coats- one in blue and one in red. Coats that my two oldest boys, now 9 and 8 wore when they were 3 and 2. They strolled in the double Graco. Big brother in front, little one behind. Hoods buttoned tight. It is a blustery, chill, “rain day” after all, and they are slightly ill.

We wait- somewhat patiently to be seen. Baby endures the infant scale with tears. Big brother watches with much interest.  Big brother, calm, quiet, patient… little bro- squirming, fussing… trying to escape…reminding  me of other visits with Tall Son and Tender-Heart.

The nurse practitioner arrives. Jonah is hoisted up and sits proud on the table. N.P. carefully listens to his lungs, examines his ears, looks at his eyes. Jonah is sitting still as a statue and very quiet. She comments, “Are you always this quiet at home? I am not used to such a quiet boy…”

All seriousness, blue eyes wide, “I was trying to be brave.”

Exam moves on. N.P. exams Jonah. Looks up his nose to see how many “boogers” (her words) are in there. She remarks, “Not that many…” These comments inspire a certain “chumminess” and

Jonah offers seriously,

“Sometimes I pick my nose.”  N.P. listens, discusses how sometimes we have things up our nose and it itches… I am listening- laughingly flabbergasted… finally I say,”Well, we shouldn’t pick our nose. We go into the bathroom and use a tissue. Then we wash our hands.” Jonah shrinks- a little. N.P. encourages that we don’t want germs on our hands. We should use a tissue.  Jonah says again, “Sometimes I pick my nose.”  N.P. says, “Do you eat the boogers?” I am all aghast in wonder- what is going to come next. “No,” he says- oh- so seriously, “but one time Abi did.”  I don’t know whether to shriek with laughter or once again counsel on the unsanitary dangers of boogers and-particularly- of eating them.  N.P. calmly and emphatically states that you should not eat boogers. I was completely unaware that my daughter ever ate boogers. Ha!

Baby- observing all of this interaction- with much interest… places both of his little, cold hands on the sides of my face and puts his little face right in front of mine (a sweet technique he has when he wants to be sure he has my eyes and mind) and he says…

“Ohhhh! Myyyy!”

Oh. My. Indeed. It took me a scant five minutes to move from being in that room to being there- all there… hurriedly writing this moment on my brain and treasuring/recording forever the sweet laughter it afforded me.

Children. The things they say.