Okay, I know.. what an un-original blog title. But I can't think of anything more intriguing.
Mickey had an issue on his knee that required a tweezer, squeezing, hydrogen peroxide, antibiotic ointment and band-aid. Hubby handles these issues as much as possible as I am known to faint without warning.
So I distance myself from the situation and am busily cleaning up the kitchen when I overhear and observe this scenario:
Hubby: Well Mickey, you are all taken care of, I don't think you are going to die.
Mickey: WHAT?! (not realizing that his daddy's statement was in jest)
Hubby: (realizing that his four year old did not understand the jesting) Oh Mickey, I am KIDDING!
Mickey: You mean I AM going to die?
Hubby: No, NO, I mean I was kidding when I said that I don't think you are going to die...(pause) I mean, you AREN'T going to die from this, I mean....you are going to be fine. never mind.
Poor kids. We really mess them up, don't we!