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Sunday, December 27, 2009

Geez, that's a lot of bandaids (revisited)


A rebroadcast from when i first started this blog, cuz being a holiday i am feeling pretty lazy

When my daughter was young, she loved Band-Aids. If it hurt, it needed a band-aid. I never understood why. I still don’t. I fought this affinity for about three minutes. Or three years. I can’t quite remember when I just gave in and gave up. I had no idea that this was even an issue when I re-married eleven years ago.

One day my daughter asked me for a Band-Aid. “Are you hurt?” I asked. “Yes.” She replied. “Are you bleeding?” was my next query. “No.” she responded. “Then you don’t need a Band-Aid,” was my logical response. “Yes. I do” She replied. This went on for what seemed like hours, but was probably more like three seconds, and I gave in.

When I went to the linen closet to get a Band-Aid I found that we had approximately seven million of them. Geez that was a lot of Band-Aids There were Barney, Scooby, and Hello Kitty band-aids. There were pink ones and blue ones and even a couple boxes of flesh colored regular boring band-aids. I remarked to my wife, “Why do we have SO many Band-aids?” “Libby likes them.” she replied. I guess so, I thought to myself.

I gave my daughter one and thought that was all I had to do. “Put it on me.” She said. I asked her where it needed to be adhered, and she pointed to what appeared to be a spot of perfectly healthy skin. Again I asked, “Why do you need a band aid?” "I have a boo-boo." she replied. Over the years she had several boo-boos and apparently the band aid was the magic elixir that made it all right. I am not a kiss it an make it feel all right type of guy. I reluctantly obliged. What can you do? Too soon she won't need me at all, for anything, let alone making it feel alright.

I am a carpenter by trade. I still have all my fingers. However, I often get cut, scraped or draw blood. Lots of boo-boos. Sometimes I am bleeding and I only figure that out when I see blood on the floor or the object I am working on. My idea of a band-aid is duct tape. In lieu of duct tape there is electrical tape. If those two items are not available there is always a strip of a rag. The dirtier the better, that’s how you build up tolerance to infection.

When I sold my Toyota, I found three boxes of Band-Aids in the back seat storage compartment. I think I put them in there to make room in the linen closet. Maybe it was to make sure I had a Band-Aid in case my daughter needed one. I traded in the Toyota for a Ford Ranger and I have a first –aid kit in my truck. I am not exactly sure what is in it. I put it in there when I bought the truck. I have no idea where it came from. It is not big enough to hold a roll of duct tape.

A few months ago we were playing Hockeyball. My daughter took a tumble. She skinned her knee. It drew blood. She left the rink, and cleaned up her wound. She is s tough little cookie. She made more of a fuss about the hole in the leg of her newest pair of skinny-leg jeans than the bleeding spot on her knee. She came back on for her next shift, and played thru the rotation. She never asked me for a Band-Aid. My little girl is growing up.

Just another day in paradise

1 comment:

  1. i think these posts about your family are my favourite.


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