Cursed with my intelligence but blessed with her mother’s good looks, The Princess, my 19-month-old daughter stood there triumphant. This was by far her crowning achievement, a new milestone, beating out the time she filled her mouth full of dog food. There she stood with a peanut in her nose.

“Yook, Daddy!” she exclaimed, pointing to her nose as if I hadn’t noticed.

Right behind her wagging her tail, happy dog Spot had two nuts stuffed up her nose. Fortunately, with one mucus-filled sneeze, both nuts came out of the dog’s nose and after a brief tussle between toddler and canine the slimy nuts were eaten by the dog.

One down, one to go. What about my daughter?

“HONEY!” I screamed. Get mom to solve this was my first reaction.

“You take care of it. I am changing your son’s diaper,” she screamed back. Busy with the 3 month old, like that is an excuse.

Diaper or nose nut, I thought as a familiar odor filled the house. I’ll stick with nose.

I am not sure what she was thinking or what really goes through a 19-month-old mind.

Stuff comes out, will it go in? WOW, it does. The result: A peanut up the nose! At least she experimented with the dog first. But who knows. In this household the dog may have lodged the two nuts in her nose by herself.

Now I am stuck with the how to reverse the action. getting it out. Who do I call, this isn’t a life and death emergency. My thoughts run wild, what if she inhales and it gets lodge in her brain. She might go into politics and end up in Congress. I must act. Is there a 911 for these types of situations?

I dialed 511. It was worth a shot. I got a lovely lady’s voice prompting me to enter my credit card number for the first five minutes.

Wrong kind of nuts. That didn’t work, now what?

In a stroke of pure genius, I decided to call the Jiffy Peanut Butter folks surely they will know what to do. They deal with nuts every day.

Grabbing a jar of Jiffy Extra Smooth ,I searched the label for a consumer hotline. There it was, their 800 number. I dialed.

“Jiffy Peanut Butter. Can I help you?”

“Yes,” I blurted. “My daughter has a peanut stuck up her nose.”
“Hold on. I’ll connect you.”

I’m put on hold and elevator music comes on the line. My daughter sits on my lap . She’s still new in the talking department, but her grin says it all:“I put a peanut in my nose.”

“Peanut placement department. How I can help you?” a soothing and reassuring voice broke into the symphony version of a Led Zeppelin’s Whole Lotta Love.

“My daughter has a peanut stuck in her nose.”

“Shell or unshelled?”

“Un.”

“Dry or honey roasted?”

“Dry.”

“Good, we won’t have to use dynamite. Do you have an air wrench?”

“A WHAT?”

“Just kidding. We are going to blow it out. Put your finger on the nostril that does not contain the afore mentioned dry roast unshelled peanut, pushing down on it and tell you daughter to blow hard through her nose. You should have a peanut projectile in no time.”

“OK, Sweetie, listen to Daddy, on three blow real hard through your nose.”

I got down on my knees to make sure I got a good view.

“One. Two. Ouch!

I forgot my daughter doesn’t know how to count so on two the peanut comes flying out hitting me square in the eye.

“You weren’t wearing glasses were you?” The voice on the line chimed in.

“Don’t worry happens all the time. Just put a few eye drops in. You’ll be seeing clearly in a week or two. Thanks for calling Jiffy Peanut Butter, the best spread for your bread.”.”

As I hold my eye open to try and restore sight in it. The dog is there to eat the peanut and run off to the diaper bin to sniff out a fresh load, with my daughter in hot pursuit.”