I came bounding down the stairs the other day, and found sweet, just awakened Mo’.  She had tears in her eyes, her shirt pulled up, and a big, honkin’ band-aid strapped across her mid-flank.

Me:  ”What’s Up Mo’?“

Mo:  ”This thing!” [pointing at BIG band-aid] “It won’t come off!”

Me:  [Swooping in like I know how to do business] “Let me take a looksee…“

Mo:  ”AAAAHHHHH don’t touch it!  It hurts!!!  Mom… I thought you knew what you were doing! Don’t you get paid to do stuff like this?“

Now.  I know band-aids.  I have two kids, am an RN, and in the 40-ish age of life… That band-aid was S. T. U. C. K.   So I did what all RNs do with stuck band-aids.  I grabbed an  alcohol swab from my pocket to ‘dab‘ on the tape, to loosen it.  Big Mistake.  Crickey Moses in Heaven. Big mistake.  That girl, jumped 4 feet high and I thought she was gonna round-house me!  We were finally able to squint, yank, and pooter [her not me] and it came loose.

There was the biggest adhesive burn on Marvelous Mo’s abdomen. I asked her where she got the duct-tape band-aid and she said:

Mo:  ”Dad’s car!“

Me:  ”Dad’s car?  Are they old or something?  Been in the car too long?  Generic?” [now looking at Hubs with a hand on the hip and peering out over the top of my glasses.  Hubs had just walked into the room, completely unaware, peering for an escape hatch].

Mo’:  ”Who cares?  Now I need a band-aid for a stupid band-aid.” [left room]

So Mo’ wasn’t too concerned, but I was. Why did this girl’s skin react like this to a band-aid?  I immediately asked Dad to go get the box of band-aids in his car (to check expiration date and the type of band-aid) like I was the band-aid-patrol.  Here is what he brought me: