Garrett flipped a trash can over and climbed on top so that he could talk to the kids on the other side of the fence. Sometime during this excursion he suffered a rather large sliver in his hand. I removed it with a needle but not before he went completely crazy and I had to put him in a leg lock. Once removed, he insisted on a Band-Aid and, even though there wasn't a speck of blood, I obliged. Once the Band-Aid was safely in place, he looked up and said, "Mommy, I've had a really rough day."
I know, kid. I know. Some days I feel like I've been put into a leg lock so that someone can dig around my hand with a needle, too. Then I'm released simply because there are bills that need paying. I pulled him into a hug and mumbled into his head, "I'm sorry you've had a rough day." I decided not to mention that one day there would also be bills.