Last week I decided to go on a bicycle ride in a local Park. After a lovely workout, I peddled to my car and, while hitching and strapping my bike, my nose started to run. With nasal mucus racing towards my upper lip, I rushed to secure my bike and began to search for a tissue frantically.
Coming up empty, I checked my clothing; was there an unoffending sleeve that might suit? Looking down at my t-shirt and spandex pants, I wondered if anyone would notice if I used my shirt to do a quick snot-swipe?
Ferociously sniffing, I rummaged through the car and found a familiar orange package. Small and square, I knew its contents would absorb the river flowing from my nostrils. Slyly, I removed the outer plastic revealing the cottony contents, and started to blow.
Quickly wiping and dabbing, I found my fingers stuck to the adhesive strip. As I struggled to free my fingers, the sticky side of my savior found my tiny nose hairs. Pulling and flicking my fingers, the adhesive pulled my nose hairs, and the tears started to roll. Shifting the absorbent side from my nose to my eyes, the adhesive strip found my eyelashes.
Through tear-blurred eyes, I continued to wriggle my fingers free while trying not to pluck my bottom row of eyelashes completely. Giggle-sobbing, I couldn’t catch my breath; in between uncontrolled tears and belly aching howls of laughter, I realized how quickly a situation could go from bad to worse than back to joy.
Crazy right? Even at the messiest, wildest and saddest times in life, somehow, things turn out ok.