When we went to Texas last month, my husband
whined mentioned to my grandmother that he’d been fighting the same sinus irritation and post-nasal drip for several weeks.
My grandparents were thrilled.
What’s so exciting about snot, you ask?
Well, my grandparents are evangelical neti pot converts, eager to convince owners of virgin nostrils that shoving the tip of a plastic watering can up said nostrils then irrigating the innocent sinuses within is the only way to nose nirvana.
You’ll meet a lot of people like this nowadays. They’ll extol the virtues of saline, swear by their own battery-powered (!!!) nasal cavity pressure washer and make fun of you for being a sissy for not trying it.
Well ‘scuse me, but Mama taught me at a young age not to stick things in my nose and she was right about most stuff, so I’m gonna pass.
My husband, however, was so desperate to be able to breathe normally that he willingly subjected himself to a nasal douching aided by my sweet granny.
And he did in fact enjoy the experience so much that he had me purchase for him his own little pot and packets of cleansing powder to take back to Kansas City with us.
It’s not a grievous hyperbolization to say that there have been several times over the last few weeks where I’ve wanted to drown my husband in the toilet after listening to him gurgle and hack after flooding his sinuses.
As much as I hate listening to the noises he makes while observing his new ritual, it’s nothing compared to how grossed out one of his employees was the other day, although she handled it much better than I would have.
Something had gone wrong with that morning’s nose watering. Saline went in, but saline did not come out. No amount of glugging or snarfing would get his head to drain.
I might have giggled a bit as he left for work.
While performing his duties later that morning, some of which require bending over, he was overcome with the urge to sneeze.
With his head lowered, he took a deep breath in preparation for that sneeze and was shocked when his nose unleashed a massive, salty splat of saline and snot upon the floor.
His employee, while surely disgusted, remained professional and merely said, “Neti pot, huh?”
I stringently object to the normalization of this practice, so I turned to the internet for support.
Only, it seems as if the rest of you people have been drinking the kool aid as well.
Dana K over at Really, What Were We Thinking (Makes it look cute with her adorable accent. )
Poppy at Funny or Snot (The first I’d ever heard of a battery-powered nasal assault weapon. Also gets credit for coining the phrase “nasal douche.”
What about you? Are you a believer?