This is a true story of a relative, who shall remain nameless. RIGHT!
SHANE’S DECLARATION
The children stood upon the stage
Each holding words upon a page
In turn they read a line or two
On what their Daddy’s always do
One Dad fought crime, and one fought fires
One farmed land, and one sold tires
Shane was nervous when his turn came
And couldn’t remember his own name
Poor Shane’s courage was almost gone
So the congregation clapped him on
But he’d lost the paper that he had
So the Preacher prodded the little lad
What does your Dad do every day?
Shane thought a bit on what to say
Then the little boy in Sunday clothes
Yelled out, “My daddy picks his nose!”
Phyllis A. DeWitt-VanVleck
I have apparently missed this family story and am now trying to recall which male relative picks his nose. I have it narrowed down : )