I have mentioned before, I believe, that our 10-year-old daughter A~ is a freak reader. Really, I challenge any of us to read a book, any book, faster than she does. F-R-E-A-K. One of the downsides to this is that when she encounters an unfamiliar word she quickly makes a decision about its pronunciation and moves on. This isn’t a HUGE problem, but sometimes it can be funny.
First of all, I never considered the word nostrils to be particularly rare or difficult, and heaven knows she has figured out the correct pronunciation to much more difficult words, but not this one. Granted, nostrils is not a word we use in regular conversation. No, no, we don’t find it offensive or vulgar or anything, it’s just that, you know, how often do you talk about nostrils? It just isn’t a common topic. Not in our house anyway. So I guess this is why she, somewhere along the way, got the idea that the word is pronounced nose-trils.
I have heard her say it at least twice in the past two days. Hmm . . . maybe nostrils, or in this case nose-trils, are becoming a common topic in our household.
While we’re on the subject of nose-trils, could somebody please explain to me why little kids are so fascinated with what may or may not be up there? I just don’t remember having this interest during my own childhood. Sure, I liked my bellybutton when I was little, but I was never mining for anything down in there. And apparently, when my two youngest are digging through their nose-trils, they aren’t just looking for something interesting in a tactile kind of way. No, they are mining for snacks.
What is up with that?!?
The other day I caught Midge noshing on a nose-tril nugget and I just threw my hands up and said, “Okay, if you’re just going to eat boogers, then we won’t bother making Christmas cookies this year. Why go to all the effort when you’d obviously be just as happy eating your Christmas boogers? Think you can pull enough of them out of there to put on plates for the neighbors?”
No, actually, she didn’t think she could.
So now I have a shortened, reworded Christmas song I’ve been singing to the kids:
I’m dreaming of a green booger,
Just like the ones I used to blow . . .
May your days be merry and bright,
And may none of your boogers be white.
And George, if you’re out there, Tewt the Newt says hello.