The Day the Yellow BB Got Stuck in His Ear


It started off like any other Sunday.* I slept in, Hubby bathed and fed the little ones (I know, I’m totally lazy and spoiled), and I woke up just in time to get ready, help get the girls get ready, and head to church. Even though the talk in Sacrament Meeting was really good, I still had a hard time keeping my eyes open (I guess 11 hours of sleep isn’t enough). When it came time for Primary, I was rushing around trying to help things with the kids go smoothly, take roll, make birthday cards, and take my girls potty (again).

By the time I finally got a minute to sit down, my oldest son, who is 11 1/2 years old, came up to me, shaking, and said, “I’m scared.”

I’m thinking, What happened? Has he been threatened? What’s going on?  

What happened?”  I asked.

To which he responded, “I have a yellow BB stuck in my ear.”


“I have a yellow BB stuck in my ear.”

“Well, why are you scared?” I asked.

“Because I have a yellow BB stuck in my ear.”


First of all, he is eleven-and-a-half years old.

Second, how did that even happen? Third, he is ELEVEN-AND-A-HALF years old! Fourth, I love that he continued to insist that the BB was yellow, as if that was helpful. Fifth, HE IS ELEVEN-AND-A-FREAKING-HALF YEARS OLD!!!

“How did that happen?!” I whisper because we are still in church.

“It fell in.”

Oh OK then, that explains it…

Upon further interrogation he elaborated that he was holding the (yellow) BB close to his ear and it just “fell in.” He apparently then proceeded to dig for it, at which point it got further lodged in the ear.

I seriously had no idea what to do.

Tweezers were suggested, but I didn’t want to push the yellow BB further in. I thought I should probably take him to Urgent Care, but I wasn’t sure if I should wait until the end of church or go immediately. This was kind of an emergency, but I didn’t want to be panicked.

When an emergency happens my mind goes blank and all logic and power of reason go completely out the window. I tried calling Hubby so that he could tell me what to do but he was at meetings. Thank goodness a friend of ours asked me what was going on. I told him what had happened and he unwittingly took up Hubby’s role of telling me what to do in a time of crisis, although buffering it with a conciliatory, “but it’s your choice.”

“If I were you I’d go to Urgent Care right now, but it’s your choice.”

“We can watch your kids so you don’t have to bring them with you, but it’s your choice.”

Should I bring the second oldest with me?  “I wouldn’t, but it’s your choice.”

I can’t even express how grateful I was for the voice of reason that essentially told me what to do, even if it was “my choice.”  Not to mention the fact that he and his wife watched 3 of my kids all afternoon in addition to their own 3!

Thankfully we got J-Dub in to see the Dr. right away and the Dr. took a tiny little scooper thingy and scooped out that dang yellow BB in like, 2 seconds.

It was such a relief.

The whole ride to the doctor, which took about 40 minutes, J-Dub was completely silent except for the occasional, “Is it going to hurt?” And the minute we left the doctor he wouldn’t stop talking, he was so happy.

And now the yellow BB is in the trash.

*Originally published in 2011

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Momming is hard, amiright?

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