It's All in Your Head

This afternoon after lunch, Tiny Dancer was sitting quietly with me in the living room. Out of the blue, she looked down at her finger and freaked over a small boo boo.

"Oh, honey, let me see!" I said sympathetically.

"Nooooooo!" she squealed. "It'll hurt! It's bleeding!"

"It will not. It is not," I urged as I spotted the small red mark on her finger."

She continued to shriek.

And shriek some more.

"Wait a minute," I said. "Let me see that!" And I wiped away the small smudge of spaghetti sauce that was masquerading as a wound. "Tiny Dancer!!" I scolded.

"Oh," she muttered. And then she laughed with relief.

I did not find it quite as amusing.