Thursday, October 2, 2008
I try not to laugh at my children, at least not where they can hear me. But sometimes I just can't help it. Take today for example. When I left the girls at preschool this morning, K was on her butt, scooting her way across the floor to where some of the other kids were reading a story. "Why was she scooting?" you ask. She was scooting because she fell on the play ground and hurt herself. No, no she didn't break her leg or sprain her ankle or sustain any other injury that would prevent her from putting weight on her legs and feet. She scrapped her knees. Ok, the scrapes were pretty bad. Bad enough that we had to put band-aids on the scrapes. For some reason she is mortally afraid of band-aids. So much so that she screams like a tortured prisoner when ever we have to put them on. So much so that when she has band-aids on her knees she can't walk or even stand up. I hope she heals fast (or forgets about her wounds) because I don't know how many days I can patiently deal with her phobia. Silly kid.