Visiting First Aid

The Rock Star loves Mickey. A lot.

One afternoon we were at California Adventure and I happened to spot "Sailor" Mickey. The line wasn't overly long so I jumped in it. When there was just one kid left in front of Garrett, he tripped over a light stand that was bolted into the ground. Putting his hand behind him to break his fall, he sliced it open on the top of the bolt.

He instantly started sobbing.

We managed to calm him down just in time.


Garrett showed him his cut and Mickey pantomimed that he was sorry. Then they hugged.

As soon as it was over I inquired about where I might find first aid. I wasn't sure how deep the cut was and since he'd fallen on a dirty Disney bolt I figured it needed to be cleaned out. That's when, for some inexplicable reason, The Rock Star freaked. He was no longer crying over his hand but he didn't want any part of someone looking at it.

"It's my hand and if I don't want someone looking at it I don't have to let them!" He sobbed. Troy, my mom and I continued heading to first aid anyway, despite his protests. The same child had already ridden Space Mountain and Tower of Terror so the fact that he was having a giant hissy fit over someone cleaning his hand was bordering on the absurd. It was as though he thought someone was waiting with a hacksaw to remove his hand in its entirety.

When we got there we were greeted by two registered nurses. One took down my name, address and phone number while the other cleaning Garrett's hand. Without a hacksaw, even. The first nurse informed me, "Don't worry, we aren't going to charge you. We just need your information for our records."

I almost said, "You aren't going to charge me? Maybe I should always come here for my medical care."

The Rock Star wasn't maimed or killed inside of First Aid. I know, it's amazing. He even managed a smile.

And then he got this.

We then joked with Garrett, telling him that he was the first person in our family to visit that particular Disney attraction.