You know it's bad when...

When the telehealth nurse is trying not to laugh, you know you've entered a new level of parenting hell.

This morning I was feeling particularly parenty, and made scrambled eggs and toast for breakfast. Faith, being more like her Dad on the breakfast front, decided to just have a banana. Blake, on the other hand, made the eggs with me, and then dove into his toast and eggs like a lumberjack.

Things were going well. Everyone was happy. I was even reading my new book. Peace.

Then, I looked over and Blake had a piece of toast in his nose. Great. So, I pulled it out and told him "No toast in the nose!" He smiled. I should have known.

I went to help Faith get on a web site, then looked back and Blake had his finger up his nose. He looked like he was on a fishing expedition. Freak! So, I looked up his nose, and sure enough, there's a piece of toast where it shouldn't be. Great.

I dialed the telehealth Ontario number (likely the best service the Conservatives implemented), and explained "the nature of my problem".

"My kid stuck a piece of toast up his nose." Words I never thought I'd have to utter.

The telehealth nurse gamely pretended to keep a straight face as she told me he should "blow his nose vigorously". (Yeah right, a 23 month old will do this.) Otherwise, we had to take him to the emergency room to get a doctor to extract the offending object. Great.

At this point Blake started to sneeze and I figured we were home free. In fact, I thought I saw a crumb fly out. I then wrestled him to the ground and shone a flashlight up his nose to see if there was anything left. Just looked like normal boogers, so I was feeling pretty good about the whole thing.

Half an hour later, however, I noticed his nose was really starting to run. Then, he let out a huge sneeze and this baby fingernail size piece of toast came flying out of his nose, snot and all. Yuck.

And this was all before 9:00 am. Can't wait to see what the rest of the holidays brings.