Three generations in one tiny apartment

Baby crawls up the stairs behind me, and passes me, and says, “I beat.”

He runs into the living room and holds out his arm and says, “Uncle mean.” I yell, “Uncle what did you do?” Uncle laughs and says, “I just took a pencil away from him.” I said, “Did you hurt his arm.” Uncle comes to the room and laughs and says, “I grabbed his arm to keep him from putting his eye out.” Then he looks at Baby, now the Good Son is 6’4” and huge, and Baby, well is Baby sized, and Uncle says, “Tattle tell.” Baby runs over and grabs uncle by the legs and hugs him and says, “Tattle tell.” Those are the precious moments. Ahhh, the sweet life of mother and Nanna hood.

He holds his finger out and I take a tissue and gently wipe the booger off his finger and Baby says, "Ewwwe, Yuck." Why do they get so obsessed with what comes out of their noses?