first aid

Someone in our house has a little obsession with band-aids.

Scene 1:
Julia: Na-na. Na-na. Na-naaaaaaaaaa! (No, she's not asking for a banana. Sometimes it takes me a while to figure that out).

I give her a band-aid. She tears it open, peels off the sticky tabs, plasters it on her skin. Her eyes glaze over with bliss.

Then she takes it off and throws it in the trash.

Immediately:
Julia: Na-na. Na-na. Na-naaaaaaaaaa!

Scene 2:
Actual injury sustained: a tiny, heart-breaking blister on the pinky toe.
Julia: Na-na! Na-na! (Points to knee).
Heather: You want a band-aid for your toe?
Julia: No!! (Points, more deliberately, to knee.)
Heather: You want a band-aid for your knee?
Julia nods, happy.
I get the band-aid. She grabs it, opens it, and sticks it to her forehead.

Scene 3:
Ointment applied to the bandaging area provides extra relief from symptoms. Ointment is also known as "cream".

Julia: (Still sporting blister) Na-na! Keem! Na-na! Keem!
Heather: (Fetching items). You want them on your toe?
Julia: (Pointing to cream) Mine?
Heather: You need the cream? (Unscrews jar lid. Thankfully, the jar is nearly empty).
Julia: (Sticks finger in. Looks at it with pure joy, then lifts up her shirt.) Belly. (Rubs it in).
Heather: Do you still want this band-aid?
Julia (Nods, grabs. Sticks it to her forehead.)

Bliss.