When I was little a trip to Grammy’s was the highlight of the season. I got to go Spring Break, Summer Break, Thanksgiving and Christmas. As I got older I was dropped off halfway between home and Grammy’s to spend my Spring and Summer trips by myself in Charlottesville with her.
Now, everything that went on at Grammy’s house was AWESOME. There was always a chocolate cake waiting on the kitchen table for me, her old square dance skirts for me to play dress up in (yes, she was a champion square dancer around town), and best of all.. the Minnie Mouse Band Aids that had been in that medicine cabinet as long as I could remember.
These were no ordinary Minnie Mouse Band Aids. These were literally from 1992 or before. They came in a tin Band Aid’s can (the same size as a Band Aids box these days, just tin) and were a little different of a material from the Band Aids at home. I used to find any excuse to use one, but only one, during each trip. I knew they were special and I wanted them to last until I was “too old for them” (little did I know I would still be buying Barbie and Spider Man Band Aids 10+ years later).
The tin is still there, sans Minnie Mouse contents, and I can only hope my Grandkids will get to enjoy it too.
A Toast to You Band Aid.
Here’s to the time I tried to show my Girl Scout Troop the flips I learned in gymnastics and face planted into the floor. You were there to hold my chin together until I arrived at the hospital to get stitches.
Here’s to the time my sister pushed me off the swing set at the neighbors house… Too bad you don’t stick to busted lips.
Here’s to the time I was going lightening speed on my bike and took too sharp a turn. You were there to soothe my forehead until my mom was assured it was just a surface scrape and that I did not have a concussion.
Here’s to you, for being there for my knees in the summer time. I don’t think I would still have those puppies if it weren’t for you.
Here’s to the time I was doing a flip off the diving board and you were there for my leg. I should have learned my lesson with flips by then…
Here’s to the time I was walking to the grocery store last year and took a tumble and scraped my knee. You awaited me on the shelves of Giant like a trusty old pal.
Here’s to the time I was making mozzarella cubes for my pasta last semester, you were right there in my medicine cabinet when I cut myself.
Thank you Band Aid for being there for me at any age, for I will never grow out of hurting myself.
My trashcan lid has been popping open randomly for about a week now. I tried to tape it closed using Scotch tape, but it wouldn’t stay stuck for some reason. I saw the box of Band Aids on my counter that I had pulled out for my earlier post, and decided to try using them to hold my trashcan lid closed and surprisingly the Band Aids held better than the tape. My theory is that the little plushy pad that breaks up the sticky arms is what makes the difference.
“Band Aid: (n) small sticky piece of latex that determines my final grade”
That, my friends, is my new view on Band Aids. They are no longer a nice little stretchy piece of latex with a fluffy absorbent cushion that sticks to any and every small wound I have and comes in an array of colors, characters and design. No. They are now a contributor to my academic future. They are ominous and threatening. They have a whole new meaning beyond function.
The first thing I did with Band Aids was pull a few out of the box in my medicine cabinet and stare at them for inspiration. My cat thought I had pulled out toys for him so he picked one up and carried it around in his mouth for a while. I guess this means we should add “cat toy” to the previous post on various other functions for Band Aids… Anyways, as I stared at the Band Aids that remained on my coffee table, I felt the intimidation. They were taunting me. They did nothing but stare back at me all plain and boring.
I realized I was in need of more inspiring Band Aids, so I went to the CVS and looked in the first aid aisle. And there, sitting on the shelf, lay my inspiration for a post. TATTOO BAND AIDS! I bought them, and, as reluctant as I am to admit it, I put on about six. They were pretty legit for a kid’s product. But here I was, a proud young adult turning into a child again over some Band Aids.
Now, I realized as kids we all wanted to grow up faster. So we bought things like cigarette gum for us aspiring smokers, or wore our mom’s high heels to feel taller, and now they have Band Aids to fulfill the dreams of kids who wish to turn their bodies into art when they grow up? Get out. This is too much to handle in one day. Let’s add “completely awesome” to my current list of views on Band Aids. Band Aids are not just functional when you’re a kid (or a twenty year old college student…) but they are an expression of self. That Band Aid isle at CVS was an oasis of designs to express your favorite character, or color, or… food? (yes, there were bacon Band Aids). No wonder kids these days want a Band Aid for every little bump they get.