#55: Floss

"Daniel," she cried.

He sat on the train, next to an old man and had his finger deep into his nostril. The old man peered over at the toddler next to him. She imagined his disgust at the snotty nose and the subsequent judgement on her parenting style. Snotty nose is one thing, but picking that snotty nose on public transport was another.

She knew he would wipe his finger on the seat. She imagined in horror the snail trail of snot left for the next elderly person.

She reached down and pulled out Daniel's finger, ensuring to enshroud it in a tissue before it touched anything else.

His face scrunched up in preparation for a tantrum when the old man pulled out of his pocket a lollipop and presented it to Daniel.

His watery eyes flitted between the orange plastic and her, seeking approval.

Her heart melted that he knew not to accept candy from strangers.

"Go on," the old man said with a hint of an accent. "Don't worry, little man. I pick my nose in public as well."

Daniel grabbed at the lollipop, tearing the wrapping in a second.

"Thank you," she said.

"You are most welcome," he said.

She smiled as Daniel sucked.

"You know, my cousin once had a tooth growing in his nostril, and said every time he picked his nose that he was flossing."