No, not ME!

July has started out splendidly.

I was sitting next to Ryan during "circle time" at his camp today, when I noticed that he was fidgeting with his ear. I had already given him a long lecture on why it's not ok to pick his nose at camp, so I was annoyed at the thought of having to come up with a convincing ear-picking lecture. Before I could open my mouth to say anything, I noticed a tiny white object resting at the entrance of Ryan's ear. My immediate reaction was to try to get it out, but my hand was intercepted by Ryan's. His chubby little finger shoved the object further into his ear so that it was barely visible. I had to think of something before the object disappeared and ended up in his brain....or wherever the ear canal actually leads to.

I went to the camp director, whose solution was to hand me a pair of pointy tweezers and grant me access to an actual nurse's office (the nurse is off for the summer, but her room was unlocked). I felt very official when I asked Ryan to lie down on the typical nurse's office patient bed (sans the sanitary paper sheet) and then I lit the spotlight next to him. I directed the light towards the ear and tried to devise a plan on how to maneuver the tiny tweezers into the tiny, dark hole and capture the rogue nugget. I was barely in there when I had a flashback of this story: There was a family that used to be in my congregation at church. One day, the mom was cleaning out the youngest daughter's ears with a q-tip. She went too far into one ear, and the girl passed out.

I froze, tweezers in hand, and realized that I had no idea how far I could go into Ryan's ear without making him pass out. I handed back the tweezers, and Ryan and I were on our way. His mom couldn't get ahold of their family doctor, so I was instructed to take him to the ER at Grandview Hospital.

I'll spare you the boring details of the ER visit; anyone who's ever been there with a minor issue knows how boring and annoying it is. Not that I would prefer to be there with a major issue, but I think you know what I mean. But the highlights of the trip were:

• Ryan telling me how hungry he was every 2 minutes. (To which I responded each time, "Well, when you stick things in your ear that don't belong there, you don't get to eat lunch when you're hungry."

• Overhearing (eavesdropping on) a conversation between a girl I would estimate to be about 14 and what sounded like her father, over her cell phone. The conversation went like this: Girl- (mumbling incoherently), Father- (something insensitive about her reason for being in the ER), Girl- (mumbling...gradually getting louder) "But it hurts realllly baaad!!" (followed by over-the-top crying that you would expect out of a toddler). The most entertaining part was that her mother was sitting there with her and never comforted her or tried to stop her from raising her voice. No wait, the best part was Ryan staring directly at her the entire time. I didn't stop him because it was taking all of my strength to not whip my head around and stare at her myself.

• The number of times Ryan repeated the phrase "No, not me!" in situations where it completely did not make sense. He picks up phrases like this from his brother and TV shows, and often uses them correctly- for example: when anyone says that they forgot something, or if someone does something dumb, Ryan says "a-duhh!" and everyone laughs because it fits and he looks clever. But this new one is just not getting the laughs he so desires, so he keeps on trying. The kid is a walking catch-phrase. (My personal favorite is another newer one; "What are YOU talking about??" I'm trying to get him to add "Willis" on the end...)

• The list of objects that Ryan claimed to have put in his ear when asked by various nurses and doctors on staff; including, but not limited to: hot peppers, pickles, pizza, pita, hummus, ranch dip, carrots, and cucumbers. Oh, and poop, of course- because simply saying the word "poop" always gets a laugh. (Boys!) I had to make it clear to each staff member that he hadn't actually put any of those things in his ear (with emphasis on the poop...) and that as far as I could tell he didn't actually know what he had put in his ear.

Once we finally got in to see the doctor, the visit went rather quickly. Three of us held Ryan down (just as a precaution- he was actually very good about staying still) while the doctor tried a handful of random medical tools/utensils until one did the trick. Ryan was rewarded with two latex gloves and a "boo-boo bear". (I have mixed feeling on him being "rewarded" for sticking something in his ear... but at least he was well-behaved for getting it out.)

So what was that thing in his ear? Throughout all of this, I described it like this: "You know the backs of earrings- those little white rubbery ones that come on some of them? It looked similar to that. I mean, I don't think that's what it is, but it was about that size." Well... I was right; that's exactly what it was! What that was doing on the floor of a preschool classroom I can't figure out, but stranger things have happened. (Hey, I'm just grateful it wasn't poop.)

As we walked out of the ER and towards my car, I lectured him again on why he shouldn't put things in his ears. To reiterate my point, I asked him, "So are you going to put things in your ears anymore?"

To which he replied, "No, not me!"