Me: Please tell me that's not a giant booger.
Noah: I think it's gum.
M: You think...How...? Why...? Wh...??
N: How do I get it off?
M: Use an ice cube.
N [after scrubbing on it for awhile]: My nipple is freezing off!
I, in all my accumulated years of motherhood wisdom, suggested he take off his shirt. He did. As he continued scrubbing, somehow we got on the topic of Instagram.
M: I am required to spy on your Instagram account. It's part of my job as a mother in the twenty-first century. [If you're one of those "respect your children's privacy" parents, maybe you're right and I'm wrong. The longer I parent, the more I realize I really have no idea what I'm doing. I'm just making it up as I go along.]
N [after finally picking the last remnant of gum off his shirt]: Hey, it worked! How did you know about that trick?
M: It's part of my job. Just like stalking your Instagram account.
This reminded me of a similar conversation we had when he was 5 years old:
April 6, 2007 After breakfast Noah left his milk on the table, so I put it in the fridge. At lunch time I resurrected it. He sat down at the table and said, "Hey, look! My breakfast milk is still sitting here. And it's even still cold!" I told him I had put it in the fridge, and he said, "So when you discover milk sitting out, you put it in the fridge? Is that part of your job? Geez, there's more to this mom job than I thought."