Nature v. Nurture

The other day we had some errands to run, so we went down to the garage and I unlocked all the car doors from the driver's side as usual. I loaded my stuff into the car and saw my son still standing on the other side, fumbling with the door handle. When I called to him to just get in the car so I could buckle him in, he said he was having trouble with the door. Thinking I'd mistakenly pressed the wrong button, I deliberately pressed the unlock button, but still my son struggled with the door. Finally I went over to his side, opened the door, watched him climb in, and buckled him up.

"I couldn't open the door," he said, showing me his right hand (he's right-handed), "because I need to keep this hand clean so I can rub my eye, but the other hand is okay to get dirty because I only use it to pick my nose."

The sad thing is that I had the same kind of logic (and habits!) when I was a kid, and since I've never told him about it, I can only surmise that this pathetic way of thinking is genetic.

Man, if that's the case, the kiddo is in for a funny little life. ;^)