The Booger Lady and other helpful strangers.

Any mother living in Washington Heights (on the northern end of Manhattan) knows that if you haven't been yelled at by a Dominican grandmother about how your child is dressed (read: underdressed) for the weather then, well, you don't get out enough. Usually some well-meaning woman gives me a look of great concern and points emphatically to whatever part of my child's body is slightly exposed. I would love to say, "I have kept my children alive and relatively well for a while now so I think he'll be just fine, thank you," but I don't know enough Spanish. I could probably say something like, "Thank you, woman. We are good. See you later."

There are people who are actually helpful. People who give up seats, help the kids down from the bus, haul stroller up multiple flights of stairs.

Today I was riding on the subway with the kids and I watched as a grown woman went to town, mining a booger out of her nose. I've definitely seen people do a discreet brush or flick (we've all done it) but this woman was unabashedly digging for gold. And she found some. Then she examined it and flung it on the floor of the subway.

Mercy was happily singing to herself,

"I'm a low-ie, I'm a low,

I'm a low-ie, I'm a low,"

to the tune of Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star.

I have no idea what a lowie is but I'm glad that the lowie was not paying attention while I tried to wipe the look of disgust off my face. We came to our stop and got off with a few other people. We were slowly climbing the stairs when, about half way up, a friendly voice asked if she could help Mercy (since I was carrying Judah and the stroller). I looked up and saw the smiling Booger Lady reaching for Mercy's arm.

"She's ok!"

"Come, baby, let me help you."

"NO! She's ok!" I frantically waved her away and she moved along.

Now, I am not a germophobe. I don't use hand sanitizer. I don't obsessively wash my hands. I am definitely a lick-the-dropped-pacifier-then-pop-it-back-in-their-mouth kind of mom. But I couldn't shake the image of her fingers deep in her nose and then those same fingers picking up my child.

What struck me later was this: if I hadn't seen her pick her nose, I would have absolutely let her pick up Mercy and drop her at the top of the stairs. Really, what harm would a little booger on her jacket do? Build up those immunities, right?

In hindsight, I should have just gone for it, thanked her kindly and gotten over myself.

If I have to choose between kindness and cleanliness, I choose kindness.

Well, maybe kindness and hand sanitizer.