The most recent injury occurred while I was attempting to nap during the ever elusive time that The Little One is sleeping while the Captain is home. From my sleepy haze, I heard the wailing from outside and then the loud whispers from the Captain "Do not wake mommy!", as he hurriedly searched for a band-aid to quiet the award winning dramatics.
Once I succumbed to either my own curiosity or the need to mother (I'm not sure which) I was met with quite a sight. The Big One was on the couch, her right leg outstretched supported by a pillow, a shiny new band aid on her knee. As soon as she sensed my presence, she turned and looked at me, her big puppy dog eyes still wet with tears.
"I got a boo-boo Mommy" she wailed.
"Let me see."
"NO DON'T TOUCH IT!"
"Do you want me to kiss it?"
"Yes, (sniffle) but DON'T touch it! And no bath tonight!"
You see, whenever we have an injury of any sort, The Big One attempts to refuse baths until the band aid is gone.
So, fast forward a few weeks. The injury formerly mentioned has healed long ago. The band aid has slid from it's original placement and is surrounded by the familiar dirt encrusted adhesive. And though I am sure the injury is no longer there, I am not allowed to check it, let alone remove the hideous band aid.
One day while playing, I notice that the band-aid has been on so long that it has begun to split in half, just below the adhesive part. I know it is only a matter of time until the band aid is hanging, having split in half. And as predicted the same day, after nap, I notice the band aid. It has completely split and just below the top portion of adhesive and is hanging down, flapping just below her knee-cap. There is no trace of injury. The boo-boo has completely healed. The Big One has no idea that her band aid is flapping in the breeze, so I reach for my camera.
Exhibit A: The split band-aid
The moment of discovery
Exhibit B: Evidence that the band aid has been on far too long- the dirt ring.
Exhibit C: The completely healed boo-boo
Upon discovery of the hanging band aid the leg is once again rendered useless.
Later that night, while The Captain is giving her a bath. I hear a blood curdling scream come from the bathroom. I do not move. I know exactly what has happened. He has ripped off the hanging band aid. I can hear him attempting to coax her into letting him tear off the top of the band aid still sticking on her knee like no body's business, which of course she adamantly refuses. She emerges from the bathroom after her bath tearfully explaining how "mean" daddy is.
Th next day we go to Story Time, McDonald's and the grocery store. All the while she is sporting the top half of the band-aid. That top half remained for a few more days, until it finally fell off on it's own.
How do your little ones handle injuries? Are they bump and go kind of kids or do they milk it for all it's worth like mine?