The other day, Sharks was picking his nose, so I asked him if he needed a tissue. His answer: No thanks, my finger is fine.
Moving on. Yesterday it was just time to trim the fingernails. You know what I'm saying. Sharks hates it when I cut his nails, but it's gotta be done.
So anyway, I did Deedo's nails, then the baby's, and finally Sharky's. He did this big, frustrated sounding sigh as soon as I finished clipping and walked away all mopey, only to sigh again, and say, "See? Now I can't pick my nose!"