Band Aids

I return from a long and guilty hiatus victorious! I have ideas, I have a plan, and I am following it. This is the beginning of a short series. The episodes in question are taken from real events as related to me by my friends. Names are not used. It’s too incriminating, as all these stories are true.

He stood in the health aisle, mostly asleep. Too many people ask too much from him. Come here, go there, hey daddy, hey dude, hey sweety. Just the band aids, that’s all he needed. Out of habit, he reached for the ones his mom always got. You know, assorted sizes, anti bacterial, Band-Aids. The kind that used to come in a tin.
Then reared in his head a twitch of rebellion to wake him momentarily from his half slumber.
“I’m a big boy, darn it, I’m a grown man! I can buy whatever band aids I want, and I want to try these band aids!”
He resolutely claimed the heavy duty band aids. You know the ones. They don’t come off even if you’re scuba diving in pirate infested waters off Saudi Arabia. No matter what happens, they’re stuck to you, possibly by Gorilla Glue.
But he’s a big boy, and he makes his own choices.
He swaggered off home to patched up the minor skin abrasion for which he was shopping.
Smiling smugly, he affixed the band aid. Oh! He missed by a fraction of an inch! Horror! In the valiant attempt to remove and replace the band aid of doom, more skin was removed than protected. Shame and Horror and Deflated Egotism!
“Mommie!” he cried.


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