“My Owie’s Not All Gone…”

That’s right.  He’s got an “owie.”  This is not the worst, but he sure didn’t like it.  It worked out like this.

You know how 3-year-olds love to push boundaries?  They love to do stuff that you tell ’em not to do as soon as you turn away.  Bill Cosby talked about this beautifully in his book about Fatherhood, and I’m finding many similarities.  I’m not going to use the phrase “brain damage” as in many of Cosby’s writings and comedy routines.  It’s just a reality that children like to see what happens when the parents aren’t looking.

So he was told not to jump on the couch.  And as soon as backs were turned there was jumping on the couch, and then there was falling off of the couch.  Then there was the coffee table.  Then there was screaming.

A while ago, Cameron fell at school and ended up having stitches.  It was a horrible experience for him, and hitting his head again (I think) brought back terror that he might have to relive that awfulness.  With much comfort, an ice pack, kisses, and a mildly amusing refusal to look in the mirror, he made it to bed and peacefully to sleep.

The next morning, recognizing that his head didn’t hurt the way it had the night before, he announced that his “owie” was all gone.  No amount of talking would convince him that the magical disappearance wasn’t quite what he expected.

So, back to the mirror and the revelation:  “My owie’s not all gone!”

He’s doing very well, several days later.  What’s kinda fun is that every time he gets to a place where he sees new people or people he hasn’t seen in a while is that he tells them:  “My owie’s not all gone!”

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