I hate when they're bored!! Greg comes to me about 4:00 in tears, not whiny "Somebody's picking on me" tears, deep sobbing "Help me please please please" tears.
"Moooommm, I put beads up my nose! Waaahhhh"
"What? What do you mean you put beads up your nose? Come here let me see"
Yep - I look and see this blue piece of plastic wedged in there. Ok, deep breath, do I take him to emergency or do I try to get it out myself? I took another look and decided that I could probably get it out since I could see the hole. I find a hook, catch it and it's out. *HUGE SIGH*
"Mom, there's a yellow one in there too. I put two in"
Ah CRAP!! I look in there and sure enough, there's another one in the back, just at the back of the nostril but that one's sideways, no purchase. By this time, he's wailing that I'm squishing him and his hands are flailing and getting in the way and I keep telling him that he has to stop or it will really hurt or worse and I'm thinking "I better take him to emergency". After about 5 minutes of him flailing, he gets tired and I'm able to push the tip of the hook under the bead and it pops out. Just in time because he caught his second wind and he was winding up to start again.
I bet he won't do that again! That was, I swear, the most stressful 10 minutes that I've ever been through. I felt the grey hairs sprout.