The Bogie Blog … or why every mother MUST pack a hankie …

December 6, 2011 in Latest, Mums tips


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Amanda shares a story sun, sea and bogies. Those of a weak disposition, look away now.

We all need a bit of a hair down moment, and so when Emily asked if I’d post a blog, it being close to christmas, I thought I’d give you a BIG hair down moment….!

This happened just short of my half year anniversary living in Spain with my then 6 year old son Zack.

In that time, I had become a property owner (laughing to myself at the pile of rocks I called a house), my Spanish had reached a stage where people look blankly at me only 40% of the time (provided I wasn’t discussing internet links, car problems or other technical stuff like names of vegetables etc), Zack by then was burbling away in Spanish with a vocabulary FAR more useful than mine (skateboard, bike brakes, chewing gum, backpack), and the weather continued to be gorgeous for us in February. LOVELY.

It was so hot on the Sunday in question we went to the beach at Sagunto, just north up the coast from Valencia and home of the Spanish MOT equivalent people who I worship and would coat in chocolate sauce and EAT they were so good to me – but that’s another blog – lovely, sandy and practically deserted which on looking back was a good thing …..

Those, with a weak stomach, are strongly advised to take a Government health warning at this stage because it gets GROSS …

My beautiful son, becoming the famous (or infamous) Zack of hurtling into the fray of bull runs Blog, was innocently playing in the sand when he said “Mummy something’s wrong with my nose ….” I looked up from my book, felt my blood run cold as I took in the scene – the lower half of his face was generating I swear the Longest Bogie I had ever seen …. ! It was more than 7 inches long, and he was gently shaking his head so it was swinging like a nearly docked lambs tail … and guess what? We had absolutely no tissues – not even the mother´s classic of some chewed up old apology for a mass of washing machine bits in the depths of a pocket ….

The creation he was expelling was so gigantic that the only way I could think of dealing with it was to bury it an inch at a time in the sand……

I thought I was going to gag, but being “cheery ruddy hale and hearty let’s leave England and go to Spain in a Campervan Mother” I kept making encouraging snorting-cum-wretching sounds of “that’s right, get it out….”

It makes me laugh even now ….. The gouge we made in the sand would have given the first scoops of the Channel Tunnel a run for their money …!

It was so vile, but maybe I will ONE DAY learn to have hankies on me. We eventually found a piece of grease saturated kitchen paper underneath some polenta patties that we took for our picnic in another wheat and gluten free drive, but Zack’s profuse situation was too much for an “on its last legs” piece of kitchen paper. Not a sight I will forget in a hurry.

And, of course, beaches here do NOT have loos handy, so I had to go swimming. YIPES. THAT was cold. And when I got out, blue, chattering teeth, shrunken so much from the cold that I almost looked slim, Zack said he needed a poo…… !


So we packed up, walking quickly away from what could arguably be seen as a camouflaged trip wire and shipped out, driving home via every service station to find a place for a thunderdump …

I’ll save that for another time :)