The Big Booger Bubble
Today at school, I was in the art room with a bunch of the older girls, one of whom—Charlotte, irrepressible scamp that she is—was making the whole table laugh hysterically by telling them about the big booger bubble she had blown out of her nose.
“The big booger bubble!” I said. “That sounds like it ought to be a story.”
“YES!” Charlotte commanded. “Make it. Right now. Make the story.”
So I did.
THE BIG BOOGER BUBBLE
A Story for Charlotte
One time there was a girl who had SUCH a stuffed up nose…
…such a stuffy, snuffly, horky, honky, stopped-up snorker of a grotty snotty sniffer…
That when she took a deep breath in, and blew a deep breath out—
And from out her left nostril came a big booger bubble!
She blew! Whew! and she blew! Phew! And that big booger bubble blew up too. It blew up just like a balloon, and SOON, the big booger bubble was the biggest thing for miles.
It was bigger than her nose. It was bigger than her face. It was big enough that astronauts could see it down from space.
The girl puffed and snuffed, sniffed and whiffed, and in no time at all she was flying through the air. She was pulled up in the clouds by the big booger bubble.
The wind blew her south, it blew her north, it blew her east-northwest by south-southeast until it blew her straight into a flock of geese flying down for the winter.
Those beaky geese popped the big booger bubble!
There was a LOT of SNOT and it fell down like rain. Snot in the fields, snot in the plains. Later in the spring snot-weeds grew in all the farms, bearing gloopy gloppy nose-fruit that sold poorly in the markets.
But as for the girl, she windskated down on the wings of the geese and landed soft and safe in her own backyard where she went off, searching for a hankie.