I saw what you did. And I applaud your determination to teach your grandson right, I really do. It’s so refreshing these days, in a country where most parents work and leave their children to the care of strangers, that in some families a grandparent steps in to pass on their values. You are such a hero, Grandma. And Grandson will be all the better for it.
You: elderly female, riding the L Taraval with your five-year-old grandson, sitting up front in those seats that face inward. Me: male in my late twenties, from a farm town in Souhern California, unaccustomed to the ways of "the big city," sitting in the middle section of the train, in a seat that offered an open view of yours. There was a woman next to me. The train was moving, the scenery was dull. I looked over at your seats. And just in time.
Your grandson reached deep inside his nose with his index finger and pulled out a huge, juicy nose fruit. He then began to contemplate eating it. This intention we could all see in his eyes, and it was confirmed as he slowly drew his adorned finger to his mouth. You, grandma of the quick reflexes, “SuperGrandma” I’ll call you, you stopped him just in time! You grabbed his finger, removed the nose goblin, and. . . . ate it yourself.
A nose nugget is a difficult thing to dispose of, to be sure -- especially a nugget of this size and obvious quality. So YOU ATE IT YOURSELF. Priceless.
What was that boy thinking, not offering it to you first? Congratulations, Grandma. Lesson taught! Never mind that the woman on my right turned to me and said, “Did you SEE that?” Never mind that she then moaned, “I’m going to vomit.” Never mind that I stopped riding the MUNI that very day, and decided to contribute to every kind of polution you can name by driving to work instead. What is important, Grandma, is that you taught that boy an important lesson in etiquette. N'est-ce pas?