I've said it before and I'll say it again...

This is gross. No two ways about it. But I've been a mother for 10+ years now and this is a big problem for children, and ourselves, especially as our self image takes a back seat and our immaculately presented children become our pride and joy - an outward indication that despite the chaos that generally follows us, our children have their shit together.

So why is it that our noses, of all things, have to throw a spanner into the already complicated mix?!

Our noses are a haven for all sorts. We sniff too hard, stuff gets stuck up there. Miniscule stuff. Particles of nasty. Sometimes those particles join forces and create the ultimate monster particle. Sometimes the monster stays hidden until it dehydrates and becomes an annoying burden. Sometimes the monster fancies a game of peek-a-boo and loiters on the cusp of the nostril, popping out at the most inopportune moment and embarrassing those around us. We, however, are usually completely unaware of this hide and seek escapade and only proper dickheads point out your partially hidden lodger. Often, said lodger will swing freely from the nostril on an invisible, undetectable thread, brazenly bidding "Hello!" to the world until your brain suddenly screams "LURKER ALERT! LEFT NOSTRIL! DANGLING!" To which you respond with a swift swipe, adhering the monster to your thumb like shit to a blanket... unable to surreptitiously dispose of him because the person you are talking to knows that a moment ago you had a massive greenie hanging out your nose, your hand and nose connected and now the greenie has gone. And any flicking/flappy motion is going to alert them to the fact that a bogey is smeared across your hand.

On a child these things are generally acceptable. Unless the nasal fluid is the colour of sage and an inch thick. Kids lick anything and at no point should snot be on the oral trajectory. Good God!

But for adults... and mothers in particular, our noses pose a hidden threat. I've said it numerous times, sneezing is the work of the devil.

It's main purpose is to remind women that actually, a little more pee could have been squeezed out on your last loo trip. ACHOO!!! SEE?!?!? I told you, Pissy McPisspants!
Applying mascara... that black, goopy liquid we smear across out eyelashes in an effort to looking eye-battingly beautifully alert rather than black-eyed, saggy and tired. If you don't execute the open-mouthed gape whilst applying aforementioned gloop you can bet your arse that your nose will mix things up a bit by throwing a sneeze out there. And we all know that if you sneeze with your eyes open they'll pop out, and nobody wants to be forcing eyeballs back into their face spaces at 7.30 am. So we just do it. We sneeze. And we print lashes all over our cheeks and eyelids, rendering the job null and void because instead of looking tired and worn out we now look like we popped a load of ecstasy and applied our mascara whilst on a trampoline with one hand behind our backs...
Then there is the eyebrow pluck. What the actual fuck?! There is always that one eyebrow hair that triggers and uncontrollable sneezing fit, followed by an unbearable tingle. But because the slug-brow look isn't becoming of many of us we put ourselves through this regimented horror show. And we ALWAYS believe we look better with blazing red eyebrows, a snotty nose and eyes like piss holes in the snow.
Of course we then have the dinner-dishing-up-time sneeze... The one where you're gathering plates stacked with piping hot, tasty food for your family, juggling them to the table and suddenly... right there... the sneeze. Its a choice between dropping every single plate and blowing kablooey, or aiming it at the one plate and hoping the Husband doesn't notice the addition of salty goodness you've prepared especially for him.
And finally, as we grow older, sneezing has the ability to render us incapacitated with no notice whatsoever. Whether your nasal explosion triggers a sudden sciatic attack in your leg and arse cheek causing you to limp like Quasimodo, or whether it inflames the trapped nerve in your back, hunching you over in agony, or whether it jars your neck, bending it at an unnatural angle - the recurring theme here is Quasimodo.

All this stemmed from the fact that I executed a spectacular sneeze in the car this morning. I'd been taunted by the elusive little bastard for about an hour...he tingled up and down, teasing me. Massively frustrating. Until I was at the traffic lights among the other cars and pedestrians, window down, humming along to Blur. Suddenly it was all systems go, which basically resulted in me making one helluva noise and stalling the car whilst desperately trying to round up any escapees with a furious sniff. Fringe in the eyes, slightly damp hands and a slightly damp seat - and my tissues buried deep in the pit of my handbag. The day had started so fucking well too!

Ahhh... the glory of being a woman, the glory of uncontrollable bodily functions and the general public.