Story of my life

Wy Wy brought a friend home from school yesterday, and boys being boys, ended up in the backyard on the rope swing. At some point, probably showing off for said friend, Wy scraped his right knee. It wasn't that bad of a scrape, and it certainly didn't slow him down, that is until rub-a-dub dub time.

As soon as the water hit the wound, the Boy cried. Not bad at first, but then the Elder Boy, living up to his mean Big Brother status, raked a stiff bristled brush over the wound.

That's why Wy lost it. Hard.

"I...I...I...I...I...I..." he cried. Sobbing. Snot streaming. Blood in the water. The Boy was gone Daddy, gone!

"Slow down son," I said. "Slow down."

"I...I...I...I...I...I..." he blubbered.

"Wy's a baby." Ethan said.

"Boy!" I said, pointing at him, as I'm wont to do lately, "You are NOT helping."

Ethan submerged himself in the tub to get away from my pointing finger of disapproval as Wy Wy shrieked, "I"M NOT A BABY!!!!!!!!!! I HATE YOU ETHAN!!!!!!!!"

"SLOW DOWN WY." I said, as I grabbed him just before he started pounding on Ethan's submerged head.

"I...I...I...I...I..." Wy sobbed. "I...I...I...I...I"

"Slow down son. Tell Daddy what you need." I said.

"I...I...I...I...I can't!" Wy said, falling even deeper into sob city.

"Wy. Please settle down. I can't help you if you don't tell me what you want me to do. Use your words." I said.

"I...I...I...I...need a band-aid." he sobbed.

"Son, I can't give you a band-aid in the bath, it won't stick. Let me finish washing you and then I'll get you out and get you all fixed up with a band-aid." I said.

If only.

You see Dear Reader, unbeknownst to me, the Elder Boy had ran out of art stickers and had the great idea of using kid friendly Madagascar (the movie) character band-aids as a substitute. This meant, that the box of band-aids I held in my hand were empty. All we had was liquid band-aid. "Fuck me." I'm afraid to say, I said.

"What?" Wy asked.

"Ethan did you use all the band-aids?!?!?!?!?!?!" I asked.

Nothing, but a shit eating grin, as he submerged like an alligator into the bath.

"There's no...no...no...no...band-aids?" Wy asked.

"No. I'm afraid they're gone." I said.

Wy lost it. Again. Hard.

They say necessity is the mother of invention, which must be true, since an idea struck me hard, as I frantically searched through the drawer for a stray band-aid.

"Wy Wy. I got an idea. Quit wailing. Sit right there. On top of the vanity. Don't move. I'll be right back." I said as I took off toward the kitchen for a pair of scissors and a roll of red painters tape.

"What's that?" Wy asked, upon my return, looking at the red tape in my hand.

"Boy," I said, "I'm going to make you an extra special band-aid.

"Really?" he asked.

"Really," I replied, "MacGyver ain't got shit on your Dad."

The Boy was ecstatic with the finished bandage. And more importantly, his hurt no longer hurt. He was so happy and I so proud of my MacGyver-ized band-aid, that we decided to take a picture (so it would in fact last longer.)

So I ask you this, Dear Reader, does it matter what I used to fashion my kick ass home made special bandage for Wy Wy?

I think not.

As long as we don't tell the Boy I used a Carefree Maxi-Pad.

Until I BLOG again...Life goes by so fast.

Update: I'm not big in revising, or adding to a BLOG entry once I commit it to the BLOG. This however, deserves an update.

Wy Wy, was so pleased with his special band-aid, that the next morning he would not let my Lovely Bride remove it. He wanted to wear it to school. Which meant, that My Lovely Bride had to tell the teacher why Wy was wearing a Carefree Maxi-Pad taped to his leg. Classic. My Lovely Bride deserves danger pay for putting up with me.