Another story from the Drafts folder. . . .
Ali's been a bit clumsy this week. She's fallen down four times in two days, and I'm not sure why.
At first I suspected her shoes. Maybe they were the problem. But then we wore a very different pair of shoes today, and it was no better.
Maybe she's just hit a growth spurt and is awkward with her own body like a pregnant woman. She sure made ME clumsy.
At any rate, she's got two rashes on each knee. It's quite the sight. She woke up from her nap today saying, "I've got LOTS of boo boos. I've got LOTS of boo boos!!!".
Poor kid.
One of her falls today happened while we were at lunch with my Dad. Or more accurately, as we were leaving lunch, and so therefore in the parking lot, leaving her biggest rash yet (none of which are barely categorizable as a minor scratch, mind you).
Minor or not, she was quite upset about it.
Which led to something very familiar.
Dad reached in his little bitty jeans pocket (aren't those called cigarette pockets?) and pulled out his magic powder.
Or, to translate to Ali's language, "Magic Medicine".
Dad has kept a steady supply of Magic Powder in his cigarette pocket since I was Ali's age. It always managed to make everything feel better.
And for those rare times that it DIDN'T work, he pulled out the Pinaseptic. Which was, in itself, motivation for the Magic Powder to make it all better
The Magic Medicine definitely seemed to do the trick. So much so that it didn't need a kiss from Mommy. In fact, it must have been better than a kiss, because when I went to get her from aforementioned nap where she was complaining about her boo boos, she promptly requested more Magic Medicine.
Who knew it was of higher quality?Kisses or Magic Powder?
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2 comments:
Glad the magic medicine made her feel better
I think they are called watch pockets, dating back to the time of, wait for it..., "POCKET WATCHES"!
Dad
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