This morning Baby's Sunday School teacher was chasing him with a Kleenex when he told her that he had a raisin in his nose. It did indeed look dark and ominous up there, so she came and got me. I took a look and asked him, "Baby, what's that in your nose?" "Is a waisin, Mommy," he answered sweetly. With a few clean tissues and some gentle persuasion, I realized the good news: There was not a raisin in Baby's nose.
The bad news: It was a blueberry.