Here is the band-aid story that I promised to you in my post on July 31:
One morning in mid-July, Oo woke up and told me she had a bruise on her leg that stung. I took a look and saw a bizarre, dark pink blotch on her thigh that was obviously some sort of bug/spider bite. By lunch time, part of the blotch had developed a small water blister, and by bedtime the blotch was fully blistered—over one inch long and 1/2 inch high... seriously. The next day, I took her to the doctor, who was stumped as to what may have bitten Oo. The theory: perhaps Oo was having an allergic reaction to a bug bite. The prescription: give her Benedryl and wait for the blister to pop.
For the three days that followed, we found ourselves addressing the bug bite and a fever (from 99 to 102) with regular doses of Benadryl and Motrin.
After the blister popped, we used band-aids and Neosporin on the spot. Removing band-aids to put on fresh ones turned out to be the MOST traumatizing part of Oo having this daddy-tarantula bite* on her leg. (* Oo's self diagnosis.) Before I could even touch the old band-aid with so much as my pinkie finger, she would scream and thrash around. Band-aid removal was definitely a two-parent job.
One night Adrian was working very late, and the band-aid task was up to me, alone. In a moment of desperation, I decided to cut the band-aid in half through the pad, so that I could pull it off one half at time. Oo and I thought this was a great plan, and all was calm while I cut the band-aid and pulled the first half off. Immediately after pulling it off, however, there was a dramatic scene of flailing and wailing and dirty "How could you, Mom?" looks. And so it was decided that the other half of that highly waterproof band-aid would stay on her leg "until tomorrow."
THREE DAYS later, enough was enough. Oo's skin is sensitive to adhesives, so that half of band-aid, with its dark dirty edges curling up at the corners, had to go! I armed myself with lots of baby oil (to loosen the adhesive) and Adrian's assistance. The anticipation was too much for Oo. She screamed and kicked; she pleaded for us to leave the band-aid alone. While she was distracted (trying to throw a most spectacular fit), I grabbed the edge of the band-aid and quickly yanked it off.
Her immediate reaction to my cruelty: "WOW!" Followed by a smile and "That wasn't so bad." Oo was relieved and now at ease, but Adrian and I collapsed, doubled over from both emotional exhaustion and laughter.
(Note: Just minutes earlier I posted an old blog entry that I started to write back in June. If you have not already read that entry, scroll down now to read "Better Late Than Never.")
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