Ten year old Cricket has always been excruciatingly sensitive to pain. Anything from a hangnail to a scraped knee will send her voice ten octaves higher than usual and flood her tear ducts. The bandages fly out of our medicine cabinet, ointment caps are hurled through the air, and my sweet little girl becomes quite hysterical, no matter the injury. If there is an injection or vaccination involved, all bets are off and it’s best to just run for cover. So the other day when Cricket decided to use a sawhorse as a hurdle and ended up with a shaved shin accompanied by a giant blood-blister on her big toe, she was extremely distraught. Past experience told her that blood blisters of that size needed to be dealt with and she was petrified. Refusing to be captured easily, I chased her around the house until I finally pinned her and the injured foot down on my bed (Disney Channel helped tremendously). There were some terrified shrieks and blood curdling screams but I was soon wrapping the toe in a sparkle bandage. In between sobs, Cricket looked down at her toe and timidly asked if I was done. I assured her I was finished and relief rushed over her entire body. She then told me how she barely felt anything and it really wasn’t that bad. Finally, she said, “Thank you, Mom.” An easy three words, but loaded with love. The skinned knees, banged up elbows and resulting hysterics are all worth it because I come out on the other side feeling needed and appreciated. Cry on all you want my darlin’, I’ll have the bandages ready.