This cold has got to go

Me: (flopped down on the bed) “I’m going to cut off my nose.”

Cole: “Oh?”

Me: “It hurts and it’s dry and flaky from blowing it all day.”

Cole: “Would you like a new nose out of gold, silver, or bronze?”

Me: (flexing fingers) “I want a new nose out of the metal of the thingies!”

Cole: “The what now?”

Me: “You know, like Wolverine.”

Cole: “You want a nose made out of Adamantium?”

Me: “Yeah!”

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