Daughter: “Mom! Come quick!”
Me: [trying to finish up in the shower]
Daughter: “It’s an EMERGENCY!”
Me: [rolls eyes]
I should be more grateful that not once have these urgent calls resulted in discovering an actual emergency. Truly, the best thing that COULD happen from this point, is that I discover another fake boo-boo. But, sometimes when you just want to have a shower in peace, that doesn’t seem like a best-case scenario.
Me, yelling: “Is there blood or fire?”
This was my mom’s go-to phrase, and while I realize there are many more things that could be categorized as emergencies, I like how catchy and easy to remember it is, so it’s stuck around.
Daughter: “Yes, there is BLOOOOD! I promise!”
This is the point where I should get an adrenaline boost and spring out of the shower to quickly assess the situation. But having been through this before, instead I take my relaxed dawdle to a slightly-more-urgent dawdle.
I’ve tried to define for my child what constitutes really needing me. I also recently instated a new house law that requires blood for Band-Aid usage. I cannot buy a Costco-sized supply of Band-Aids monthly, mmmkay?! They’re not stickers. Yes, we attempted the cheap Dollar Store Band-Aids, but they only resulted in rashes—ergo, more “emergencies.”
Well, the joke is on me, because apparently I have a severe blood-blindness vision problem and continually overlook serious injuries in my child.
Exhibit A:
Do I suspect that this red dot may be marker, or possibly red food dye from a sprinkle that fell off of the cookies we baked earlier? Yes.
Is my child in great agony over her “bloody foot emergency”? Yes. Yes, she is.
And she is insistent that we cure this ailment, which obviously takes priority over everything else, such as showers.
Quite sadly, we have surpassed the age of magic kisses healing ouchies. My child now needs much more to ease her pain. I suspect that I cannot be alone in this, so here are my tips for curing “emergencies.”
First, your child will need to carefully examine all the contents of every First Aid kit stored in your home, car, or garage. More than likely, he/she will find an explanation for why each item needs to be used.
- Scissors: “Cut my pants off to get to the boo-boo on my foot. It would be WAY too painful for me to even consider sliding off pants right now!”
- Hydrogen peroxide: “Pour it on!” (except you will need to empty the peroxide bottle and fill it with water instead, because you better not put “sting juice” on your child).
- Antibiotic ointment: “Lather me up!”
- Band-Aids: Your child will need somewhere between 3–10.
- Ice pack: Bandages have been know to come off too easily, so you will need to follow up with a wrap and an ice pack.
Your child will insist that you put the Band-Aid on for them. Don’t you dare ask, “Where is the cut?” How could you be so dismissive of your child’s pain?! The Band-Aid will need to be applied without actually making contact with the injury, and if the bandage is at a displeasing angle or slant, you will need to trash that one and start over. You will likely end up throwing away two to five Band-Aids to do it right, and eventually your kid will just do it himself/herself anyway, but not without letting you forget that you should know how to put on a Band-Aid properly.
Then your child will probably want to tell Daddy about the terrible, full-of-pain injury. This is no time to back down on the theatrics, and your kid will likely weave a wonderful fairy tale of how he/she “tripped on a staple” or something. Now if your husband wants to know why there were staples on the floor for the kids to trip on, this would be a good time to suggest hiring a chef, teacher, and three maids (one for laundry, one for dishes, and one for everything else) so that you can fulfill his dreams of sitting and staring at the children 24/7 and avoiding “emergencies.”
Oh, very important note: You may want to consider turning off Alexa/Google Home/whatever you have before your child orders a pack of medical supplies ranging from wheelchairs, crutches, or bandages. Because rest assured, they will deem crutches necessary.
By the way, shame on me for not having “all-terrain” crutches on hand. My child had to make do with this laser sword as a carpet cane and an upside-down stick horse for those pesky tiled areas.
Of course your child will require couch time, as it’s much too hard to walk after these incidents. But not couch time involving a nap or a good book—only a decent TV show can mend this hurt.
You may also think that your child’s determination and willpower will not last overnight, and when the sun rises you can put this all behind you. You may be surprised to find your child calling for you to carry them to the bathroom when they wake up the next day. Surely you wouldn’t expect your son or daughter to walk on his/her own after such a grueling injury! Be prepared for that.
I sense a Part Two coming: “How to Mend a Mom’s Soul After Dealing with a Dramatic Child’s Boo-Boos.” I believe step one is a glass of wine, step two is locking yourself in a closet.
God luck, mamas!
