Life is pretty UN-eventful since
Christmas is over. But I will re-cap a
conversation I had with J the other day.
Christmas Day: The "boys" get remote-controlled mini-helicopters for Christmas. They wait until dark to try flying them outside. It has snowed and it is really cold. The boys take Tim's helicopter outside and get it stuck in a pine tree in less than 15 minutes. They can't get it down. J tries climbing they pine tree and scratches the front of his leg pretty badly. It's bleeding all over the place.
Helicopter blinks all night long.
December 26th: J gets the helicopter down by throwing a pine cone at it.
December 28th: The scratch on J's leg looks irritated and red. I try to doctor it up with some peroxide and antibiotic ointment.
J: (puts on jacket and heads for the door.)My leg is fine. It doesn't need to be cleaned.
Me: (heading towards bathroom to get peroxide, ointment and cotton balls)Please let me at least clean it and put some antibiotic ointment on it. You don't want to get an infection. It looks sore.
Mom: (mockingly quotes old men from western movies that have been shot)"It's just a flesh wound."
J: (returns from a smoke break...aka escaping from me.) I told you it's fine. I don't need you to clean it. I washed it off the other day when it happened. You don't even have any gauze. This is so UN-necessary.
Mom: You don't need any gauze. It needs to breathe. It looks infected.
Me: (kneeling in front of J to clean his scratch) Yeah. It looks infected. I'm just gonna clean it and put this stuff on it. (pouring peroxide on his leg) It's all germy. Look at the bubbles!
J: It would bubble if you put it on the back of my hand too. It's just skin germs.
Me: That's gross. And no it wouldn't.
J: This is so UN-necessary!! Now I'm gonna have to walk around with my pants-leg up....(rolls eyes)
Me: (also rolling eyes) Fine! I hope your leg falls off!(stomping down the hall to put up the peroxide and ointment.)
J: (yelling down the hall) And don't blog about this or whatever it is you do. I don't want everyone to know about it too. Like you blogged about me running into that helicopter and stuff.
Me: (all innocent-like) No I didn't. What are you talking about?
J: You had to have blogged about it or posted something on Facebook. 'Cuz everyone in my unit knew about that. 'Cuz you told all their wives!
Me: No I didn't....
J: (yelling down the hall) And don't blog about this or whatever it is you do. I don't want everyone to know about it too. Like you blogged about me running into that helicopter and stuff.
Me: (all innocent-like) No I didn't. What are you talking about?
J: You had to have blogged about it or posted something on Facebook. 'Cuz everyone in my unit knew about that. 'Cuz you told all their wives!
Me: No I didn't....
Update: J's leg is still red...because I'm pretty sure he rubbed off the ointment later. And he hasn't let me clean it again.
Is it a "man-thing" to pretend to be fine when you've got a bad scratch you're practically dying? And to act like someone is chopping your limbs off one by one you're dying when you only have a cold?
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