Boogers As Wall Art

There's a booger on my wall. There. I said it. It's been there maybe five days now. Seven tops. But, who's counting? And, another valid question that should be asked is why haven't I done anything about it?
Secondborn approached me last week in a great deal of excitement. She grabbed me by the hand and pulled, "Woom, Mommy! Come see! Boober, Mommy! Boober! Come see!"
And, that's where I was greeted by the biggest booger ever. EVER. The biggest booger EVER was smeared across her bedroom wall. It was like an art installation, except it was not my idea of art.
Every fiber of my being was repulsed. I quickly scanned Secondborn's bedroom for a box of baby wipes only to be sadly disappointed.
What I did spy was the biggest, proudest smile on my baby girl's face. She was genuinely impressed with herself and her mucus. What's more, she expected the same from me. She was doing the tip toe dancing in place, all the while pointing and giggling at the wall.
What could I do? If I removed the offensive booger in front of her, she'd be crushed. There's a good chance I would damage her fragile psyche and send her through years of therapy. *ugh* Clearly I am not that mommy.
So, I ask again. What could I do?
I left it there while I did the tip toe dancing in place with my daughter accompanied by lots of giggling. Clearly I'm the kind of mommy that can ignore a booger the size of a VW Beetle if it brings my daughter joy. I'm just not so sure what that really says about me at all.

Who Says Mommy's Lost Her Marbles?

Who says Mommy's lost her marbles? I know exactly where they are. That can't be said about just anyone, you know.

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