Standing in the supermarket check-out line is normally pretty mundane. Except, perhaps, when you’re fielding sideways glances from other shoppers—as was recently the case for me. My hands were adorned with the mighty solar system as well as a few princesses, all courtesy of the Band-Aids I had used to cover a few minor cuts.
My home medicine cabinet had long-ago been taken over by PAW Patrol, Toy Story, Thomas the Train and Princess Ariel—thanks to our grandchildren.
When I started looking after my granddaughter Ella a few years ago, I learned she liked having tea parties and playing princess—not uncommon for a 3-year-old. And, like many other preschoolers, she loved wearing Band-Aids. She wanted them on her fingers and toes. She liked sticking them on to the front of her tops and on to her stuffies—what we used to call stuffed animals. My Band-Aid-obsessed granddaughter bedecked herself with the little strips where they would be sure to draw attention. She’d proudly hold up her hands to show her Band-Aids to everyone: from the coffee shop waitress to the children’s room librarian.
Ella didn’t need to skin a knee or bruise an elbow to wear a Band-Aid. In fact, the boo-boos that one might think were the reason for the Band-Aids were often non-existent. She simply liked choosing her favorites of the day and putting them on. I would equate her wearing Band-Aids to accessorizing with jewelry. If she actually did have a boo-boo, so much the better. A colorful Band-Aid seemed to affirm that something had happened and that she had control of the situation. It let the world know she would like a little sympathy, too!
Band-Aids, the brand name for the ubiquitous adhesive bandages, were invented more than a century ago but it wasn’t until the mid-1900s that the first decorated ones made their debut. Now, you can pick up bandages decorated with Frozen, Cocomelon, Toy Story, and Doc McStuffins. Ella’s medicine cabinet wasn’t stocked with all these varieties, of course. But she and I often took walks to shop the Band-Aid aisle in various stores and pharmacies.
“I’ll buy you a little treat,” I told Ella one morning, presuming she would want some glitter markers or a coloring book. “I want Band-Aids,” Ella pronounced. “Which ones?” I asked, knowing it would be a tough call to choose between princesses and planets. “The princess ones,” Ella told me. “And can I hold them on the way home? I have a boo-boo on my finger.” The cashier didn’t bat an eyelash as she rang up Ella’s Band-Aids. By the time we got home, Ella had opened five in search of her favorite princess, who wore a yellow gown. We made a few more trips, and the Band-Aids continued as her preferred purchase.
My daughter and son-in-law didn’t ask much about the variety of Band-Aids around their home and ours. But one Saturday morning, when Ella was in the pharmacy with my daughter, the cashier recognized her big buyer of Band-Aids. “Hi, Ella!” she smiled, then turned to my daughter and said, “Ella comes in here a lot with her grandma to buy Band-Aids!” Busted! Later, my daughter and I shared a good laugh about Ella’s penchant for the colorful bandages.
Ella is 8 now, and character Band-Aids have been replaced by tiny stud earrings shaped like ladybugs or unicorns. But my 5-year-old grandson, James, loves wearing Band-Aids and requests a Paw Patrol one when he visits, usually for an absent boo-boo.
Character Band-Aids never go to waste at our house. In fact, just the other day, I found my husband opening up the First Aid kit in our bathroom, after scratching himself up while gardening. He knows, by now, better than to expect plain old ordinary bandages at our house. And, honestly, I saw a whisper of a smile when he taped on the Buzz Lightyear.
Rosemary Black, a mom of seven and a resident of Pleasantville, NY, writes frequently on health, nutrition, parenting, and food. She is the author of six cookbooks, most recently, The Marley Coffee Cookbook.
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3 Jun 2024
0 Commentsband-aid princess
Standing in the supermarket check-out line is normally pretty mundane. Except, perhaps, when you’re fielding sideways glances from other shoppers—as was recently the case for me. My hands were adorned with the mighty solar system as well as a few princesses, all courtesy of the Band-Aids I had used to cover a few minor cuts.
My home medicine cabinet had long-ago been taken over by PAW Patrol, Toy Story, Thomas the Train and Princess Ariel—thanks to our grandchildren.
When I started looking after my granddaughter Ella a few years ago, I learned she liked having tea parties and playing princess—not uncommon for a 3-year-old. And, like many other preschoolers, she loved wearing Band-Aids. She wanted them on her fingers and toes. She liked sticking them on to the front of her tops and on to her stuffies—what we used to call stuffed animals. My Band-Aid-obsessed granddaughter bedecked herself with the little strips where they would be sure to draw attention. She’d proudly hold up her hands to show her Band-Aids to everyone: from the coffee shop waitress to the children’s room librarian.
Ella didn’t need to skin a knee or bruise an elbow to wear a Band-Aid. In fact, the boo-boos that one might think were the reason for the Band-Aids were often non-existent. She simply liked choosing her favorites of the day and putting them on. I would equate her wearing Band-Aids to accessorizing with jewelry. If she actually did have a boo-boo, so much the better. A colorful Band-Aid seemed to affirm that something had happened and that she had control of the situation. It let the world know she would like a little sympathy, too!
Band-Aids, the brand name for the ubiquitous adhesive bandages, were invented more than a century ago but it wasn’t until the mid-1900s that the first decorated ones made their debut. Now, you can pick up bandages decorated with Frozen, Cocomelon, Toy Story, and Doc McStuffins. Ella’s medicine cabinet wasn’t stocked with all these varieties, of course. But she and I often took walks to shop the Band-Aid aisle in various stores and pharmacies.
“I’ll buy you a little treat,” I told Ella one morning, presuming she would want some glitter markers or a coloring book. “I want Band-Aids,” Ella pronounced. “Which ones?” I asked, knowing it would be a tough call to choose between princesses and planets. “The princess ones,” Ella told me. “And can I hold them on the way home? I have a boo-boo on my finger.” The cashier didn’t bat an eyelash as she rang up Ella’s Band-Aids. By the time we got home, Ella had opened five in search of her favorite princess, who wore a yellow gown. We made a few more trips, and the Band-Aids continued as her preferred purchase.
My daughter and son-in-law didn’t ask much about the variety of Band-Aids around their home and ours. But one Saturday morning, when Ella was in the pharmacy with my daughter, the cashier recognized her big buyer of Band-Aids. “Hi, Ella!” she smiled, then turned to my daughter and said, “Ella comes in here a lot with her grandma to buy Band-Aids!” Busted! Later, my daughter and I shared a good laugh about Ella’s penchant for the colorful bandages.
Ella is 8 now, and character Band-Aids have been replaced by tiny stud earrings shaped like ladybugs or unicorns. But my 5-year-old grandson, James, loves wearing Band-Aids and requests a Paw Patrol one when he visits, usually for an absent boo-boo.
Character Band-Aids never go to waste at our house. In fact, just the other day, I found my husband opening up the First Aid kit in our bathroom, after scratching himself up while gardening. He knows, by now, better than to expect plain old ordinary bandages at our house. And, honestly, I saw a whisper of a smile when he taped on the Buzz Lightyear.