It was a hot humid Sunday. No one was on the outside sidewalk besides dried leaves and fried worms. The air conditioner was blasting, but only reached to about half of the kitchen. My Mother had her hands full with doing housework and cooking dinner for that night, but she also had her hands tied because she had to watch me, an innocent four-year old toddler. So she pulled my soft, warm hair into a loose bun on top of my head and put me in a new tank top and pair of shorts. Then, to keep me out of her hair, she walked me into the living room and placed me on the carpeted floor with a handful of crayons, two coloring books and a box of raisins. I then watched her leave the room. First I started flipping through the pages of the books my Mother had left me. I started to color, but the amusement didn’t last long and I got so bored, I snapped all the crayons in half, then thirds, then into a million pieces. I fell back and let the firm carpet cradle me and cool me down for a few minutes, but that excursion didn’t last long either. I sat up and picked up the palm-sized carton of raisins. Struggling to open them, I finally pulled it open and let the cardboard flap lift open and reveal the awkward-looking treasures. I tasted one. “Yuck.” I remember thinking. I spit it out onto the floor in front of me. They resembled huge shriveled spiders. I stared in the box for a minute, then, had an amazing idea. I peeled a raisin off of the others and held it tight between my index finger and thumb. And with that, *squish* I stuck the raisin into my left nostril. It was halfway out and halfway in. I was ecstatic as I raced to the bathroom mirror and jumped onto the sink, looking at my reflection. “Wow!” I thought. It was still hanging out of my nose. Then, I smiled a curious smirk and lifted my thumb. *squish* I pushed it further into my nostril. About one sixteenth of it was still in sight. I giggled really hard and--- *squish* I took my pinkie finger and shoved it further. I tilted my head in the mirror and realized that I could still see it. “Hey! It’s still there!” I exclaimed to myself. *squish* *squirp* *squish* I nudged it even further until I looked in the mirror and said, “It’s not there anymore... Uh oh.” I could still feel it as a lump near my forehead and shrieked, “MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!” I sprinted into the kitchen and started bawling. “What? What is it?” She asked, kneeling by my side. “T-the r-r-raisin! It’s in! I tried to put it here! B-b-but I-I...” It was extremely hard to talk because I was so scared. She finally got me to articulate and I told her the whole story. After that, it was all a blur: the tweezers, the relief, etc.