Tuesday, March 2, 2010

Boo Boo Zone

What is the quickest way to ensure your child has a mishap? Dress them up! Nice clothes attract misadventure – it’s a proven fact. So, after allowing Muffin to wear a dress and tights to school yesterday I shouldn’t have been surprised to find her in tears when I picked her up.

Muffin was sitting alone, despondently poking at some Lincoln Logs when I came to pick her up. I could tell that she was in the zone. The Boo Boo Zone. And let me tell you, when Muffin goes into the Boo Boo Zone, she lingers. She wallows. She savors every shuddering teary breath. And it lasts for HOURS – literally hours. She was still going on about her boo boo when I tucked her into bed.

(Where in the wide world of sports did my daughter get this drama gene? She was a hot mess. Bless her little heart I know exactly where she gets the “does not cry pretty” gene because let’s face it, fair skinned freckly people tend to get red and blotchy when the tears come so, sorry Muffin – Mama owns that one.)

Turns out she had a little accident and fell down while playing outside. Twice. On the same knee. The first coherent words out of her mouth were “I went to the bathroom to pull down my tights and look at my boo boo and,” here she paused for effect “there was blood” she finished in a horrified whisper.

I knew, then and there that this was going to be a long one. One quick look was enough to let me know that she was in no danger because whatever blood she had seen had not even shown up on her white tights.

She limped out of Kindercare and to the car and when we got in she explained “the reason why I’m walking that way is because of my boo boo and it really hurts when I straighten my leg.” This announcement was followed by more tears and sniffles. The 20 minute ride home was punctuated by exclamations of pain, lots of tears and (to my jaded ears) forced, fake crying. She was well and truly gone - oblivious to everything except the performance.

Once at home I asked her to go and take off her tights so I could examine the boo boo. This exercise was met with fresh tears and moans of pain. There she sat, on a little chair in her room, bereft of tights, sobbing hot tears of misery. I took a look. THERE WAS BARELY A SCRATCH! BARELY!! No blood! Just red welts that, perhaps to a six-year-old, may have been confused for blood. Regardless, I whipped out my secret weapon – a Dora Band-aid.

Once the band-aid was applied her mood perked up a little. She still limped dramatically, but on the whole the tears where gone. I was messing about on the computer when she came over, sat next to me, put her head on my shoulder and stated “My boo boo hurt as much as my heart would hurt if you died.”

What the French toast? My daughter has gone all EMO at age six? (dammit, I knew my love of 80’s alternative rock would come back to haunt me) When I tucked her into bed I said that I hoped her boo boo would feel better the next day and she nodded, sniffing tearily.

And you know what? No mention of it today. We’re talking over three hours of red-welt-induced drama last night and today – gone! Poof! She is as changeable as the weather. Bless her little heart.

11 comments:

Elliott said...

Ah, the drama. Just wait until she's a teen!

calicobebop said...

@Elliott - *stabs self in eye* NOOOO!!

knittergran said...

My hurt as much as if...
OMGosh! She is dramatic-and trying for a guilt-trip maybe?
How did she even think of saying that???
And as Elliott said-just wait till she's a teen!

Bev said...

Poor Muffin! What a traumatic day. I'm so glad Dora was able to sweep in and save the day.

Oh, and your death would amount to the same drama as a scraped knee?! Hey kid! Now THAT smarts.

Kris said...

Are you sure you didn't pick up my kid? She's a drama queen too. Milks it for everything it's worth!

Mary said...

wow, Muffin can really turn it on when necessary!
Also, here's a tip- the only time your kid will have to go to the emergency room is that you went straight to the ballpark/school/after care/ friends house without showering- in your oldest rattiest clothes, and possibly while you've been painting your entire house- or bathing the dog.
Sooooo- always shower and dress appropriately. Just a word to the wise :)

Mala said...

My kids know it's a lost caused to try to get all Boo-Boo drama on me. Beck took a header down a ladder at Grammy's this weekend. When he called to share with me his trauma, I told him he'd survive and maybe lectured him about paying attention on the ladder (Mom of the Year. WOOT!). When he got home and undressed for bed, there was a bandage on his leg that looked like he had spent a bad tour in 'Nam.

Hope Lil' Muffin has no more boo-boo accidents!

Samsmama said...

Aww...that poor little thing! Sam has been known to ask for a bandaid when there is literally not even a scratch. And, thanks to my mom, he now constantly asks me for ice packs. When he bumped his toe last week he said, "I should probably show Dave. He'll know what to do." Then literally hopped away on one leg. Such the performance!

Krimmyk said...

I almost wonder if it is just breed into the children know. I mean Little Dude is drama too! Add on the OCD's that rub off from the weatherman and he dwells on stuff for hours, gets over it and brings it up again weeks or months later and gets all in a tizzy again! What's up is the government putting drama in the water for the kids to torment the parents? Huh huh huh? Picture day also attracts the Boo boo zone.

I'll reserve you a padded room next to mine as they become teens.

Barbara said...

I think all children are born drama queens. Mine certainly are!

travellinbaen said...

I love it. My little scamp, who is still saddled with a limited, barely three-years old vocabulary but learning new words by the hour, used yesterday at the grocery to practice her latest word with her "outside" voice. "DADDY! You BURNED me! (Heads whip around like EF Hutton is getting ready to talk). Be assured, she knows the word now, not its meaning. I have no idea what I did to her that she confused it with.