Most would say band-aids and boo boos go together like texting and teenagers or love and marriage or some other trite over used saying we are all so ‘fond’ of. The conversation came up at the office today as a co-worker was showing pictures of his daughter’s new Rockyesque look. Some one brought up that band aids will make it all better, and then I realized yet again, my kids are from a different planet.
They’ve hated car seats, when ALL other babies seem to just slumber away in the car. The last two have been no goes on swings as babies, that I just totally can’t understand. And so far Jena and Grant (have not tried Jacob, but he’s been remarkably less accident prone, I think it’s ’cause he’s a late bloomer) hate band-aids. This is not a mild dislike, a tolerance without the normal fun associated, I mean they hate them.
Jena got a boo boo last week and I offered her a fun band-aid to make it better and the screams that ensued were worse the than original fall created. Through her sobs I heard over and over ‘I NO WANT A BAND AID!’ In fact, I will admit, occassionally, I have stooped to threatening a band aid when a particular accident fall out has been especially bad. After that a simple ‘stop crying and no band-aid,’ and we’re all better again. It’s low, I know.
Today was one of my days to pick up Grant and I noticed as I grabbed his folder at the door they had learned something about band-aids today. He had a nice picture of a scrapped up knee with a real live band-aid stuck to it. ‘Band aids make my boo boos better!’ was the nice propaganda written on the top of the page. I was partially amused having had the conversation at work not 15 minutes before, and partially curious as to how far this had gotten into my kid’s head.
As we drove home Grant is telling me of all sorts of things. He eventually lands on the two boo boos he got at school today. Apparently some kid on the play ground ran his head into Grant’s nose while both were running around and at least my kid had his eyes closed, boys. He also had an impressive scratch on his knee from a chair. Thinking this was the perfect set up, (earlier he’d told me a nurse talked to them at school today too, then the knee picture, on the way home to a closet well stocked with awesome band aids) I suggested maybe a band-aid would help it.
He then proceeded to take the next 5 minutes to explain in full 4 year old detail why there was absolutely NO REASON this boo boo needed a band-aid. He assured me over and over he was fine and it would get better all on it’s own, just see, he tells me. And there was not a lot of skin on it, maybe the next one will have a lot of skin, for me, and then maybe, he will need a band-aid, for that next one, maybe.
I’m still somewhat disappointed that all those awesome band aids I got such an awesome deal on are still in their box in my closet, but I’m also gratified that my kid doesn’t just buy everything he hears. That trait has a tendency to drive me nuts when I’m the one trying to tell him stuff, but I think it will serve him well in the long run.
Sorry band-aids, you’re going to have to try harder if you want to win my kid over.