What’s a girl to do?

Many of my winter hours are spent at a ritzy childcare center at an even ritzier ski mountain. For a variety of reasons I return to this madness every winter even though the previous April I have sworn I will never again set foot near the place. Here it is once again December and I am glued to the place like a white trash mom to her soap opera and Kool’s. Part of my morning routine involves greeting the parents and helping them get signed in. Nearly all the moms belong to the Plastic Knife club: they have that sort of perpetually surprised look that comes with face lifts and repeated Botox visits, their mouths are wide ad pulled back and their teeth are whiter than any moon can ever hope to be. They are all beautiful in that bland, butterfly sort of way, and they all blend together into one size 2, tight faced image of eternal youth.
One mom came in this morning carrying her daughter who was clad in an baby sized cashmere sweater. She handed her chubby load over to me while she filled out the paper work. Her hair was the color of blonde if God had created blonde; every strand was a different hue of golden beauty. She smelled divine and her winter white outfit was a sight to behold. As she neared the last line of the questionnaire she flipped her golden mane over her pointy shoulder and looked up while trying to concentrate. That is when I got a peak up her perfect nostrils. And in there? I saw nestled an entire colony of boogers. For a split second I thought about telling her what sort of hideous kinky lay snuggled up in her nostril hairs. But then that truly evil part of my soul reared it’s own head and forced me to keep quiet. On the one hand I believe my silence offers up some sort of effort towards equality in the universe. On the other hand I recognize that I am cruel and petty.