Boo Boos and Band-Aids

“MOM! I’m bleeding!”

I hear that two or three times a day.

It’s rare to actually have actual blood loss. Usually, it’s a vain attempt to procure a bandage. I fell into the children’s band aid trap with my first purchase of the Barbie variety. And I found myself turning the bathroom into an infirmary. Children were either purposely injuring themselves, or feigning their wounds to score a pretty pink band aid.

A favorite parenting moment was when Emme was certain that she had broken her arm and fashioned a sling out of her best bandana.

So, now I only purchase the flesh colored middle of the road type wound covering. Not very exciting. But awfully handy should I need to conceal a pimple with it’s own zip code. You know, to draw attention away from my face.

Yet still, the children still clamor for that elusive bandage. So, tonight when I heard the familiar words from my Cailey’s lips, I wasn’t at all concerned.

Last night she campaigned hard for a Curad. She had me talked into it just for a little peace and quiet, when her sister came running into the bathroom. “MOM! Don’t give her one. Daddy told her NO BAND AID!”

“Cailey, you know better than to ask me after Daddy says no,” I lectured her as she sulked off to bed. On the way back to her room, I heard her admonish her narc sister, “Emme, I am SO disappointed at you.”

I live in fear and dread of the day when they discover that if they work together, they can get away with so much more.

So, tonight, I see Cailey wander out of the bathroom after her luxurious evening soak in my garden tub. Complete with 400 Polly Pockets and all of their 2000 accessories. She’s staring hard at her fingertip, and indeed, there is bleeding. An impressive amount.

I knew immediately what had transpired. Whenever she uses my tub, I automatically put my razor up on the counter so she’s never tempted to shave.

“I don’t know how it happened,” she offers, tears forming. “Cailey, you touched my razor, didn’t you?” I lead her back into the bathroom, toward the bandages.

This is when she realizes that she’s really bleeding. You know, blood. And she starts shaking her hands wildly, jumping up and down.

Within seconds, my bathroom looked like a crime scene.

As I made a tourniquet out of the ultra soft Charmin, she calmed enough to admit, “Um, my hand kind of fell onto the razor.”

A life of certain crime is eminent unless I intervene. And frankly, stripes aren’t flattering on her.

We had a long and lengthy talk about disobeying. And lying. And shaving. And why my new Gillette Venus Embrace razor with it’s pivoting five blade system that gives me the closest shave I’ve ever experienced should never again be played with.

Afterwards, she received her flesh colored band aid. Because she really did need it. To, you know, stop the blood loss. And save the carpeting. Not to mention my sanity.

All the way down the hall, she stared at the Curad which tightly wrapped the tip of her finger. And angrily she spoke to it. “I do not like band aids. I do not like them at all.”

I think she may be cured.

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25 Responses to Boo Boos and Band-Aids

  • I pass out whenever I see blood and FEAR the day I have a kid and they start bleeding… They will have to bring me back to consciousness before I can stop the bleeding!

  • My kids have their band-aid coveting moments too. Whenever their skin is the least bit red they think they’re bleeding. Either that, or they ask accusingly, “Mom, where did I get this rash??”

  • My boys are the opposite. They live in fear of bandaids ever since they saw their Grandpa have to use scissors to cut one out of his arm hair. They are afraid they will be too sticky and hurt coming off. Yeah…lots of fun when they really need one and I have to tackle them just to get it on. 🙂

  • We have 5 girls. We have Barbie, Hello Kitty, and Smiley bandaids…not a flesh colored one in the house…much to my husbands chagrin 😉

  • You’re right. There will come a day when they will join forces and since you have 3, you will be outnumbered. I say start bribing the boy now, maybe he’ll be a double agent for you.

  • My oldest son is 15 – I still have Pocahontas bandaids from when he was about 3 (cuz he liked the movie at the time – a point he VEHEMENTLY denied when I showed him said bandaids…) Our coolest bandaids are from the Godzilla movie that Ferris Bueller was in!

  • Okay, so when I read your first paragraph, my eyes deceived me and I thought you said your kids made a “vein” attempt to procure a bandage. I laughed out loud, only to realize that my very own brain had played a trick on me AND made a pun all by itself. Then I laughed some more because I know exactly what this sort of drama looks like. And I have BOYS.

  • We’ve had the same experience with the cartoon band-aids and now they are banned from my house. My kids are constantly begging me for the plain ones, too, for every little scrape, then they take it off five minutes later.

    It never fails, though, when the kid is actually injured, they wail at the sight of a bandage. WHY?

  • funnier still is the fact that I didn’t know until I was in my 20s that hydrogen peroxide didn’t actually hurt. I always made my mom blow on it because it “HURT” so bad! 🙂

  • I used the fun bandaids until the summer that the pack of neighborhood kids found out about them. A posse of three or more would knock on the door, pitifully saying that so and so needed a bandaid. Only to find out later that she had cut it three days previously, at her own home, but I had the best bandaids…

  • we went to the plain bandaids too, the cute ones are considered to be valuable assets.
    Sometimes I remind them that the native americans used moss, and then send them to the creek!

  • My son always tells me he needs a band-aid. It’s usually because we have “character” band-aids and he likes them too darn much. I have plain ones but he refuses to put those on!

  • Absolutely. I firmly believe that the cool kid style bandaids were designed to sell more bandaids to parents because kids insist on them (25 year old brother in laws also make up reasons to use them because it draws attention from cute girls. Sigh. When my bil lived with us we went through WAY too many bandaids–especially when he took my baby son out to the mall.) We only by plain flesh colored or even better the clear ones now.

  • Ah, loved the story! 🙂 I’ve started buying the regular flesh-colored bandaids for my husband so he can keep some dignity… he doesn’t like Dora or Strawberry Shortcake!

  • I keep saying “Sam I am!” at the end of your post…

    The Girl is 11 yo and has already mentioned her dislike of her hairy legs, which I am sorry to say are much like her Irish momma’s legs. I know what she’s saying, but I’m at least hoping to hold her off because once you go there, there is no going back to baby fine hair. It’s stubble, stubble, stubble and nicked legs from here on out.

    I wish I could just keep her a kid, but no, times are a-changin’.

  • “I do not like green eggs and ham, I do not like them, Sam I am!”

    Ah yes . . . the bathroom that looks like a crime scene . . . reminds me of the evening my then 3-year old son decided walking around with his eyes closed was a good idea . . . ran into the door jam . . . right into the metal . . . and his nose started to bleed . . . and bleed . . . and bleed . . . and bleed . . . and – well, you get the picture. A call to the emergency room and 15 minutes sitting on the floor with his nose dripping “around
    a bowl while I willed it to stop bleeding netted me a bathroom that looked like someone had just been murdered in it.

  • I am laughing, as we have band-aid monsters at my house too. I gave up on the cute ones a long time ago, especially when my hubby actually needed one and all we had was Blues Clues (I told him it could be worse, it could have been Barbie)

  • I think we went through a box of Dora in 2 days. And my son once used a whole box of scooby doo all over his body – for no reason!
    Razor cuts really hurt…

  • Oh bless her little heart. She didn’t mean to, Mom. Cailey, I am totally on your side and believe that your hand fell upon a menacing razor. I look forward to character bandaids again someday.

  • Our kids get character Band-Aids for Christmas. It’s one of their favorite traditions.

    And this line?

    “I live in fear and dread of the day when they discover that if they work together, they can get away with so much more.”

    So, so true. You let us know when that happens, OK? Because that’s when the game will get kicked up a notch.

  • My kids worked for cool band aids for a short time at home. They learned daycare provided much better scoring grounds.

  • Oh, my lord! Pardon me while I laugh myself sick. My daughter’s like that too, constantly campaigning for a bandaid. And ones for me, too… because you know, I have a huge scar on my leg, which absolutely must have a bandaid. All the time…

    We have crayola bandaids, and hello kitty and finding nemo here… as well as the flesh ones…

  • Why is it that little girls can’t resist the urge to touch the forgotten razor on the side of the tub? My daughter did the same thing when she was little. Of course now she is 13 and has her own razor to go along with her own very hairy legs!

  • Ok, no one else took the bait. Is the razor that good??

  • (Oh, I’m a leeeee-tle (little) behind in my reading!!)