The little Beast has developed a foul habit of picking his nose. All the time. Constantly. I mean, doing most everything one-handed so that he can keep a finger on the other hand crammed up his nostril to the second knuckle. It is disgusting, and I thought there was no nastier habit, but he recently took "gross" to a dirty new low.
We were driving along in the minivan when, after a few moments of unusual quiet, I heard the little Beast exclaim from the backseat, "Yummy!"
Thinking he'd dug an old french fry out of the crack in his carseat, I cringed and asked, "What's yummy buddy?"
"My booger!" he gleefully replied.
Seriously?! What the %@*#?! That is so sick. I would've preferred he eat the moldy-old-lint-covered fry. Bleck!
(you can view previous editions of WT%W here or here!)