But I'm Bleeding!

I wish that we had a connection to someone in the band aid business. These are precious things in our household. The older ones never needed them as much as the younger ones do. We made a house rule years ago that you don't get a band aid unless we see blood. We have actually had to update that to you don't get a band aid unless we see dripping blood. No we are not heartless people but I remember purchasing a huge container of band aids thinking it would last a life time or at least 2 months. They were gone within a few hours. I could not believe that 1000 band aids were needed in that short amount of time without us needing a hospital doctor to confirm it. When I discovered that the band aids had been used to secure artwork to the walls of the house and to the car I knew it was time to create a silly rule.

We still go through band aids like they were toilet paper. (You would not even believe the rules we had to come up for that stuff.) I also try to prevent that whole Murphy law thing from happening. If we have band aids then we might not really need them. I can not tell you how many of our daily conversations will include comments like, "I don't see blood, no band aid." We have had to be careful because one of them will pick at a sore until she gets fresh blood.

Bed time for the younger ones means that we are starting an event that could last hours and possibly a trip to the hospital. We have learned that when they come down stairs in tears we should NOT just assume it is a ploy to stay out of bed, although 99% of the time it is. The other night we had sent the little ones up and the older ones were already upstairs trying to get their rooms clean. They were smart enough to remember that the weekend was coming and unless the rooms were clean they would not be leaving the house.

At the appropriate time I yelled up the stairs that it was bed time for the little ones and they needed to get to bed right away. Soon after the visits from the upstairs began. Bagel needed water. Pickle needed to come down stairs to use the bathroom attached to the master bedroom (I have no idea why he can't use the two bathrooms upstairs). Shortly after my second call upstairs Princess came down with tears flowing. In between sobs she screamed, "But I'm bleeding!" This is not uncommon for Princess. She is the worst one at picking at a previous sore to produce blood. If I didn't know better, I would think that band aids contained some secret candy. The conversation went as follows.:

Honey, did you pick apart a scab again? Why do you do that to yourself?

But I'm Bleeding!

Fine,come on down and show your dad.

But I'm Bleeding, I don't want to go to bed, I'm Bleeding!

Got it, now go see your dad.

Sob, sob sob!

Dad: What now babe, wow look a that arm (there was a pretty fresh wound from a bike fall.) Let me get the neosporin and a band aid.

Sob sob sob,But I'm bleeding sob sob sob.

Dad: You know you are so hard to understanding when you are crying that way. Take a deep breathe and settle down. This can't hurt that bad.

Sob sob sob, I don't want to go to bed I'm Bleeding. sob sob sob.

Dad: OK it looks like we have you all patched up, love ya, now head back up to bed.

Sob, sob, sob I don't want to go to bed I'm Bleeding Sob, sob, sob.

mom: What a broken record girl, dad gave you a band aid, it is way past bed time now go to bed!

Sob, Sob, sob, BUT I'M BLEEDING!! Sob, sob, sob

Where are you bleeding, I don't see any more blood, dad fixed your arm, now get upstairs and go to bed.

Sob smile sob, But I'm bleeding. smile, sob.

I don't understand you at all girl!

I know you don't I said I was bleeding sob not bleeding.

You're bleeding not bleeding????

NO, I'M CLEANING not bleeding. I want to stay up and help.

Princess won that round because dad and I sat and laughed at the situation for quit awhile. She is such a drama queen and we fall right into every time.