As we were headed to daycare this morning, Miles started asking for a napkin to “get a booger off.” Once we hit a stoplight, I grabbed a napkin and passed it to him. He worked for a few moments after that before saying, “Uh oh. Uh oh! It not comin’ off!”
“Don’t worry,” I assured him. “I’ll take a look at it once we get to school.”
Before we arrived at our destination, Miles had already reached a conclusion about the spot on his finger: it was in fact NOT a booger, but a tiny scrape.
“I gotta boo-boo,” he whimpered.
“Oh,” I said, studying his finger. “Yeah, yeah I see that.”
“It get better,” he said, trying to convince himself as much as me.
“Oh, I’m sure it will get better soon,” I agreed.
Nevertheless, Miles wanted to keep his finger isolated to avoid irritating the scrape, which I had to explain to the teachers at his daycare when he walked in like this:
The Perils (& Pride) of Paternity 