Bowen rushed in while I was making lunches for preschool tomorrow, declaring with all the drama that a four year old can muster, that he was "bleeding!"
"What did you do, babe?" I enquired.
"I trod on a stick. I need some cold ham."
Umm, OK. That's not too strange a request considering I was making ham and cheese sandwiches. What was strange was where he put the requested ham...right on his sore foot!
"Would you prefer an ice pack on that Bowie?"
"No, this will do."
Ri-ight.
The ham went with him outside, back in to the kitchen, pressed against his bandaid. Up at the table he sat, the ham gently resting under his foot on the footrest of his Stokke chair.
"Are you going to eat that ham now Bowen?"
"Nope, I'm not finished with it yet!"
Ahh, the healing powers of pork products!
Note: For the record, he didn't eat the ham! He graciously left it on the chair for me to throw out. That's my boy.
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