Yet another reason I shouldn't babysit your kid.

Melany is one of my best friends from high school. She and her husband live in Dallas. When they sent their 3-year-old son to spend a few days with his grandparents here in Tulsa, I offered to watch him one day, to give them all a break. It went well until (of course) the very end. Here's my email report to Melany: 

Z found a pretty silver-foil-covered jewelry box with a pair of earrings in it. He liked the way it rattled, but he kept opening the box and the earrings would fall out, so I replaced them with a large plastic jewelry bead so it would still rattle for him. He played with it off and on all day. About a half hour before your parents came, he was playing happily in the living room. I was trying to finish making deviled eggs in the kitchen, so I just checked on him every 5 minutes or so. At one point when I went in there, Z asked me: "where's the blue bead?" and I said: "oh, did it fall out of the box? did you lose it?" and I started to look around for it. I said "is it in the couch? is it on the floor?" just kind of talking my way around the living room. He said "maybe it's in here" and pointed in his mouth, and I figured he was playing a game with me, so I said an exaggerated "naaaaah... it's not in there! maybe it's under the chair" and then he said "maybe it's in here" and he pointed up his nose, and I said "naaaaah.... it's not in there!" and he said it again "maybe it's in here!" and pointed up his nose again, so I pinched my fingers (gently) around his nose and worked my way up, and damned if I didn't feel the bead in there, right at the bridge (I guess because it wouldn't go any further up). I looked up there but couldn't see anything, so I put a finger over the other nostril and told him to blow. He did - thank god he knows how to do that. Nothing happened. I told him to blow really hard. He did. Nothing happened. Blow REALLY hard. I felt to see if it had budged. It hadn't. I was beginning to envision a trip to the St. Francis children's emergency clinic, or wondered if my med student brother could come up with a plan to extract it. In the meantime, Z wasn't bothered AT ALL by any of this. He just sat there nonchalantly and did whatever I told him to do. Finally, after a few more tries, I heard it pop out, but it happened so fast, I didn't see it, but Z jumped up off the couch and grabbed it. He wanted it - still covered in snot - back in his box so it would rattle some more. Then he went back to playing like it was no big deal.

p.s. what the HELL is a Brindle Bar? he kept talking about it ALL DAY

and Melany replied:

god, i almost just snorted a bite of my homemade egg-white mcmuffin out my nose! i have no idea what a brindle bar is, but he says it ALL THE FREAKIN' TIME!!!!!!!!!!!! he'll say, "THERE'S a brindle bar." "THERE'S a brindle bar ..." and john just plays along w/it like, "oh YEAH, i see it!" so there ... i have no idea, but i wouldn't eat it.