In our house, we subscribe to the first aid technique of, 'Mama, kiss it.'
Little guy bumps his head? He comes running to Mama for a kiss on the bump. Other guy trips and bites his tongue? I hear wailing and the thump-thump-thump of feet approaching from the other room as he hurries over for the remedy. I kiss my fingers and transfer it. It works for all but the most grievous of injuries.
Arram has begun to game the system, though, as a vehicle for attention. Today he presented himself in front of me, all wound up and in an extremely complainy mood. Points to his knee. Kiss. Points to his head. Kiss. Points to his cheek. Kiss. Points to his elbow. Really? I am beginning to doubt your sincerity. No kiss. Points to his finger. Changes his mind and points to his chest. You silly little monster. Hug. Now stop your noise and go play. Safely.
Thursday, November 04, 2010
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3 comments:
I think he has figured it out! Namely, love can heal all wounds, even the most grevious. He will do well in life. He understands!
Sshhhhh! By no means mention it to the Red Cross! If they realized the power of Allie's kisses to heal...you'd be inundated!
I ♥ this post!
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