Band-aids. I can’t remember if it was like this when I was a kid, but we go through band-aids by the stinkin’ gross at our house.
Apparently, both our children are under the delusion that a band-aid makes it feel better.
I swear last week Joshua looked like he was being held together with the stupid things.
As I type this, there are 6 band-aids being worn by out 2 children.
I am, as of this moment, instituting a “no blood, no band-aid” policy. Otherwise, I’m going to have to declare bankruptcy.