Wrong surface

It feels like just yesterday that I was daydreaming on the Chanel website. Wait, it was yesterday, and now that I recall, that daydream left me with a sinking feeling of depression accompanied by more anxiety about money and how my house isn't even worth a Chanel bracelet, let alone a vintage suit jacket.
Ignorance IS bliss, I wish I didn't know that these beautiful things exist. It's shallow, I know, but it does bring about a little twinge of pain. Just a little.
So, as I am contemplating how to replicate the Fall/Winter line-up of my namesake (yes, my middle name is Chanel, my mother set her hopes a bit too high) my son, oblivious to fashion and any kind of etiquette, is wiping his disgusting, sooty snot on the walls of the bathroom. How do I know this, you ask? Because late last night Jon discovered one of the offending boogers plastered to the freshly-painted bathroom wall. About a foot above the garbage can, of course.
"What the f*** is that? You gotta be f***ing kidding me."
"What is it?" I thankfully could not see the exact detail of the 3-inch blob because I did not have my Guess (not Chanel) glasses on.
"It's a giant booger. Lucian must've wiped it on the wall when he came in here to supposedly blow his nose."
"Why would he do that?"
Jon looked up with his very dry-humor face.
"Why does Lucian do half the shit he does."
We were both quiet for a minute, staring aimlessly at the booger schmear. Jon spoke up.
"I'll get it, don't worry."
"Thanks, I'll gag if I do it."
Now, instead of my 10-minute haute couture jaunt, I've been glancing furtively around the house wondering what other walls have been defiled. The stairway going up to the kids' rooms will be hard to face.
I wonder if Chanel ever considered brown/green for her Fall lineup.