Last week my husband and I were invited for dinner at the home of one of his childhood friends. We hadn’t seen him in years, but knew he was about to move to England with his family to pastor a Presbyterian church there.
From across the room, I noticed an enormous green ring on his right ring finger. It had small specks of color here and there. I wondered if it was symbolic of something having to do with the church. I knew he had traveled to many exotic places and thought maybe it held some special meaning for him from one of those trips.
As we sat at the dinner table, one of the other guests asked him, “Tell us, what is the meaning of the green ring on your right hand?”
Our friend looked confused, then looked down at his right hand. “This?” he asked? He held out his hand for all of us to get a closer look.
It was a Sesame Street Band Aid. Green background, little yellow Big Birds on it, blue words. You get the picture.
You see, he was staying at his mother’s house and when he cut his finger, the only Band Aids he could find were the ones she had bought for her grandchildren.
By the way, the only place you will ever find colorful Band Aid like this is at a grandmother’s house. First of all, grandmothers will buy all sorts of stuff that moms won’t buy, and cool Band Aids are at the top of the list.
Secondly, if a mom ever does break down and buy them, they will last three days, max. Kids have lots of boo-boos when there are cool Band Aids around.
I was one of six children, and we rarely had cool Band Aids. We would beg and plead for Mom to buy some, you know, because ALL the other kids had them. All the other moms were nice, ours was mean. (She really wasn’t mean, but we would try anything to get pretty Band Aids.)
I remember the time she relented, and the minute we got home, we searched our bodies over for every little scratch. It’s amazing how many scratches you can find if you’re looking for them.
Add to that the fact that this great big box was misleading because inside was only a handful of bandages, and, well, after each of us claimed about four Band Aids each, the box was empty. My mom ranted and raved and said it was like throwing money down the drain.
She went back to buying the plain kind by the thousands. I told myself that when I was a mom, I would buy my kids all the pretty Band Aids they wanted.
What can I say? Kids are still kids … they will use as many pretty Band Aids as you give them. Moms are still moms … we don’t like flushing money down the toilet.
I haven’t bought cool Band Aids in years. My kids think I’m mean.
My, how the tables have turned.
