The Joplin Globe, Joplin, MO

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Discussion

November 17, 2008

Mike Pound: Finger in need of adult Band-Aid

By Mike Pound

Globe columnist

mpound@joplinglobe.com



I think it’s time for me to take control of the Band-Aid purchasing at our house.

I don’t do much of the buying of things at our house. Mainly, I buy the important stuff. You know, beer. My wife buys all the unimportant stuff. You know, food and stuff.

Because I buy only the important stuff (beer), I have been forced for the past week to wear SpongeBob SquarePants Band-Aids. My wife, I’m guessing, purchased the SpongeBob SquarePants Band-Aids for our 10-year-old daughter, Emma, who is a fan of SpongeBob SquarePants. Over the years, my wife has purchased many different types of Band-Aids featuring characters Emma has liked. In the past, my wife has purchased Barbie Band-Aids, Teletubbies Band-Aids, that little mermaid whose name I can’t remember Band-Aids and Obama Band-Aids.

Just kidding about the Obama Band-Aids.

So, actually, when you think about it (and I don’t know why you would ), I should count my blessings that I had to wear a SpongeBob SquarePants Band-Aid and not a Teletubbies Band-Aid.

Most veteran parents, at one time or another, find themselves wearing kid-appropriate Band-Aids. Much like they find themselves, at one time or another, carrying lunch to work in a, say, Hannah Montana lunchbox or filling out an important document with a Donald Duck pen. It sort of comes with the territory.

But, at some point, the cute, age-appropriate Band-Aids, lunchboxes and pens should start becoming more adult-appropriate. And I’m of the opinion, at our house, that that point is now.

Last Sunday, I cut my finger while I was cooking. I wasn’t cooking my finger, mind you. I was cooking chicken, and, to be honest, I didn’t cut my finger while cooking chicken. I cut my finger while cutting vegetables that I planned to put in the chicken.

As finger cuts go, it was a good one. Well, good in the sense that it hurt and bled a lot. My wife is the one who put the SpongeBob SquarePants Band-Aid on my finger. Because my cut was a good cut, my wife didn’t just put one Band-Aid on my finger. She put two Band-Aids on my finger. Since my wife was kind enough to put the Band-Aids on my finger, I didn’t think I was in a position to question her Band-Aid selection. I was thinking that any suggestion from me about my wife’s Band-Aid purchasing would be greeted with a less than charitable remark.

Call it a hunch.

Even though you wouldn’t know it by reading this column, I’m sort of an adult, and sometimes I have to hang around other adults. Sometimes, I am even required to do adult-like things. Sometimes, I sit in on important meetings here at the newspaper where we discuss important topics. Well, the other people in the meetings discuss important topics. I just sit there and nod my head, as if by nodding my head, I am sending a message that says, “Yes, I understand what you are saying, and I’m greatly interested in your position.” It’s tough to send that message of understanding when you are wearing two bright SpongeBob SquarePants Band-Aids on your finger. Of course, it’s also tough to send a message of understanding to other adults when you are, let’s say, me. But still.

Fortunately, by late last week the cut on my finger had healed enough that I was able to discard my SpongeBob SquarePants Band-Aid and was free to mingle with other adults without hearing them snicker. Until Sunday, when, again while cooking, I cut my finger. I cut my finger in exactly the same spot that I cut my finger the week before. And, like the first time I cut my finger, my wife brought me a SpongeBob SquarePants Band-Aid. Well, that’s not exactly true. First, my wife laughed at me and called me a moron. Then she brought me a SpongeBob SquarePants Band-Aid, which means I am now entering SpongeBob SquarePants Band-Aid week two.

So, you suppose Anheuser-Busch makes Band-Aids?

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