I was doing some cleaning in the kitchen today when I heard my youngest talking to her stuffed dogs. She had them lined up two by two with a pillow in the back. She was naming off reindeer as she pointed to the dogs and then showed me her pillow sleigh. Adorable.
But she kept saying her hand hurt. In between naming off "mocet, cupid, blonner and itzen" she would say ouch.
So I asked to see her hand and she would hold it tight to her, give me a wide eyed stare and say "Noooooo Mama."
See a couple of weeks ago, she experienced a splinter in the side of her hand. One that required me to use a safety pin to dig out. It wasn't deep but it wasn't fun for either of us getting it out and it took several tries.
I waited a while, knowing full well, she would forget eventually about it and I could sneak a peek. No dice.
"Sometime it was gonna hurt" she tells me.
I made her show me her hand, after much assurance I wouldn't poke at it. As it turned out she had no splinter this time, just a paper cut in the palm of her hand that was sore.
And a Dora Band-Aid did the trick.
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