Stronger than Snot

I’ve heard the phrase “stronger than snot” a few times; maybe even used it myself on occasion. This afternoon, for the first time, I fully understand that term.

I was out for my daily walk. By Kansas standards, it’s a mild winter day. The hat and gloves were good to have given the breeze from the southwest. And it was cold enough for my nose to drip; just a little.

In my walk this afternoon I crossed one major intersection, the kind with turning lanes and crosswalk lights. As I hurried across, one car turned in front of me before I reached the middle of the intersection; two cars waited for me in their right turn lane.

That’s when it happened. A little pearl of snot dropped out of my right nostril, suspended by the tiniest of snot threads. About an inch long, it swung in rhythm with my steps. I tried a sniff, hoping to send it back into hiding. Not effective. It just emitted a high-pitched “wheeee” that caused the neighbors’ dogs to start barking. I tried blowing. It just laughed at me. By now I’m right next to the passenger window of the car waiting to turn and it’s as if I have a shiny Christmas globe hanging from my nose.

Folks in Kansas are a friendly bunch. People you don’t even know often will give you a “howdy” wave as they drive by. This afternoon I think the wave said, “Thanks for the show.”