No Blood No Bandaid

Multi-tasking in this job includes converting my office into Red Cross Headquarters during Vacation Bible School week. During that week, my space doubles as "Respite Care for VBS workers" and I keep a solid supply of bubblegum and mixed nuts with MnM's on the desk with the top loosened. The workers enjoy the opportunity to pop in for a handful of calories, and I enjoy the bits and pieces of insight into their day and how things are going. I love bible school. Makes me think of my old preschool days except its even better because I don't have to be the one shooting adrenelin all week. ahhh.

The Church Lady's Red Cross Headquarters has an important policy. My policy is simple. The same as I used with my children when they were growing up, No Blood, No Bandaid. It took me a while to come up with this motto, but when I did, I figure it saved me a bundle in bandaid expenses.

I came into my office upon a sweet child-friend of mine who was washing his hands in my bowl of bubblegum. It reminded me ofMadge's bowl of Palmolive soapy water from an old commercial years ago when TV was new to color.
" What's up, Ben?"
"I stubbed my toe." He winced, on cue.
" You stubbed your own toe?"
He hesitated at this comment, probably wondering if indeed he did this to himself, or if maybe, just maybe some invisible gremlin made the accident happen. "Yes, right now."
" Oh. Wow. How come you're not crying?"
" Oh, I was, but my mom said I could come up here and find something to make it feel better."
" So, does the bubblegum help? Really?"
" Yeah, it does. Two pieces are a little better than one." He began to put a second piece in his mouth, then rethought the feat. He looked down at the injured area as if it was cordoned off with yellow tape. " I want a bandaid"
" Oh, rats." I pointed to the white board that hangs on my office door, usually the joy board, this week it held more important information such as "REspite care for VBS workers this way" and the No blood phrase.
" Is there blood?"
He looked down at his sandaled feet, dripping a little sugar-gum juice onto the carpet. "No"
"Oh" I joined him in a good long look. " Are you sure? want to see if we can try to get some out of that toe?"
He bent down as if he had considered my suggestion, but realized pretty quick that touching it made it hurt more. "No, my mom gives me a bandaid at home when there's no blood."
" Yeah, but look buddy. I'm stuck. The sign says that the rule here is , well, you know. ....."
He looked a little disheartened and let down.
"Hey, How about a toe sticker? That might help."
"A toe sticker?"
"Sure. that's sure to help, let's try." I reached into the treasure box I keep in my office and pulled out a page of miniature car stickers. He picked out a convertible, of course.
" Are you sure that's the toe sticker you need?"
" Yeah."
We stuck it on his big toe and off he went.
Church Ladies need to keep their tricks of the trade handy, you never know when a Pastor may need a toe sticker to ease discomfort from pulling a stuck foot from mouth. Well, I don't know about Pastor-need, I've already gone through 3 sheets myself. ....shhh.

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