Band-Aids

I took Angel to my parent's house on Saturday. They were planning to spend the beautiful afternoon working in the yard and Angel loves playing with the dogs. Their back fence is lined with huge evergreen (I think) trees, and the ground below them is covered with the dead needles that have fallen off over the winter.

Angel decided to build her own garden in the needles. To start with, she wanted gloves, but none of the five pairs my mom produced were good enough. And needless to say, every tool, flower pot, weed, and piece of yard art was succintly moved to her area. She even hung a welcome sign.

After some coaxing, she managed to coerce my mom into going feather hunting with her. (Kobe, my mom's dog, and I declined as we were quite comfortable lounging in the shady grass) So they crawled around in the needles, dodging the low branches, and surprisingly found a lot of feathers. But unfortunately, something happened to Angel's hand. We took her inside to examine her mysterious pains. Nothing was visible to my naked eye, but for the sake of peace, I rubbed some ointment on her hand and my mom put a large net-like bandage around her hand and secured it with tape.

Now that everything was in perfect working order, she proceeded to go work on her garden again. Approximately three minutes later, she acquired the same wound on her other hand. I ushered her back inside and gave her the same ministrations as the other hand. Well, almost. She was quick to point out that my mom put three circles of tape around her hand, while I had done only one. Then she asked how many days should she keep the bandages on for. A month, at least. :)

When I took her home, she wanted me to tell her grandma what happened to her hands. And per grandma's rules, those darn feathers never even made it inside.

My mom invited her back to help during planting season, promising her new gloves. I'm buying stock in Band-Aids.