On Getting Hurt
T has not been through anything major (thank God!) so the littlest things/hurts are what to him constitute major injuries.
Last night he was building something and was using the pliers in a small multi-tool kit. From upstairs, I heard his gasp and the beginnings of a howl. I heard him stomping up the steps and saw him holding his hand out. He pinched his finger with the pliers and there was the teeniest of…well, a scratch. But it might as well have been amputated from the way he was treating it. A band-aid and a sympathetic hug later, he was as good as new.
Then this morning he was sleepily picking his nose while we were still in bed when I heard that gasp again. His nose had started bleeding and it was dripping everywhere. No tears though, but he was absolutely worried. His first question was, “Am I going to die?” My poor baby. 
Several tissues and comforting words later, he was once again, as good as new.
