Morning pep for the first grader on the go

Most of us have seen a vast number of documentaries, studies and commercials, claiming health benefits from an assortment of items. Some as simple as wearing a copper bracelet and others slightly more taxing, such as an article I came across touting the health benefits of wearing high heels.

If Declan were to endorse such a product, I am confident his item of choice would be the common household Band-AidⓇ.

Yesterday morning he and I were in the midst of our morning scramble and making decent time, when it all came unravelled.

"Declan get your shoes on, we gotta go," I said in my typical tone for the 37th time in the past hour.

"I can't, I need a Band-Aid," he replied.

When I inquired as to what in the world he needed a bandage for, Declan contorted his hand and twisted his arm around as far as it would go, as he pointed to a teeny-tiny, barely visible, what maybe qualified as a scratch, on the side of one of his fingers.

I attempted to explain to him that bandages, especially the cartoon character ones he was so fond of, were in limited supply and were supposed to be used only when a person was actually bleeding from an injury.

He quickly shrugged off my "mis-information" and took a defiant stance.

"No they are not just for that. Sometimes they make it not hurt too!" he insisted.

It was becoming apparant to me that we were going to be late, as his shoe donning efforts were slowing thanks to his bandage defense, so I did what most parents would have done.

I repeated with renewed zest and for the 38th time, "put your shoes on!" and then promptly raced to the first-aid kit, scrambling after a bandage.

We were out of Looney Toons, which meant only the Dora the Explorer bandages I bought on clearance remained. Dora would have been fine in kindergarten, but Declan is a first grader now, which I have learned has a whole new set of fashion rules. I was confident that my thrifty shopping was now going to cost us several more minutes, until I noticed a very small and round, plain-brown bandage, tucked on its side in the back of the first-aid kit. The morning gods favored me.

Declan got his bandage, which upon application, instantly made him sigh with relief as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He skipped out the door with renewed energy and a smile on his face as he admired the bandage on his finger, more importantly, we made it to school on time.

I made a mental note to buy more bandages and wondered if there was a bracelet that would relieve morning tension, I may just have to get one of those.