We don't know beans

Boy 2 has had a strange last couple of weeks. He has always loved his nap, but for the last week, he's fought it mightily. After naps before, he was refreshed and happy; lately, he's a complete grump, worse off than pre-sleep. And at night recently, he waits until we've both left the room, then abruptly pops up, jumps out of bed, runs to the door, and flings it open, just begging to be scolded. During the day, our old Happy Boy has been much more whiny and prone to tantrums. Although he still recovers from these fits quickly, the Boy 2 of old wasn't much into throwing them in the first place.

All this, we've chalked up to his being two. He'll outgrow it, we've said. It's just a phase. It's no big deal. And maybe the sleep trouble just means he doesn't really need a nap anymore.

It doesn't help that we've all been sick so frequently. Boy 2, though, seemed to have it worse than the rest of us. While we've all held it together for nearly three weeks--the longest run since August--without a full-on cold (knock wood, cross fingers, and do the good luck dance), Boy 2 alone has had a persistently runny nose. The friction from all that nose-wiping left a raw spot above his lip, too, which can't be much fun. Sinus misery is probably part of his personality lately, we thought. But we didn't worry about it much. There's something to be allergic to every month of the year here. Just a little irritation. No big deal.

Except.

This was the strangest runny nose. Only one nostril was affected. When a couple days ago the usually clear drainage turned a little discolored, I began to wonder whether Boy 2 was developing a sinus infection. But he never had any fever, so I didn't pursue it.

Then this morning, as we were getting out of the car to go into church, T and I were laughing about a story we'd heard from someone we know about her kids, who stuffed things up their noses.

"He probably has a bean up there and it's beginning to decompose," I joked. "That's why it's running funny colors now." We both chuckled, and then Boy 2 sneezed.

And out shot a bean.

T and I looked at each other in shock for a few seconds before it hit us. It was all we could do not to burst out laughing every time we thought about it during the service. The minister must have wondered what was so funny about his sermon!

Now here's the thing. We didn't have any idea that bean was there. And we didn't eat beans yesterday, or the day before, or the day before that. We had chili last Monday--yes, six whole days ago. But the bean that Boy 2 ejected this morning was not a pinto, kidney, or black bean from that chili. It was a Great Northern. And that, my friends, is a bean we have not eaten in more than two weeks.

So.

Now that the kid's no longer full of beans, I guess we'll see whether he sleeps, breathes, and generally feels much better than he has. As I type this, in fact, Boy 2 is napping soundly for the first time in many days....