We've had our first calamity!
Finje, chasing some boys through the park (writing that sentence does make me happy), tripped and used her face as a braking system.
Blue lights and sirens were unnecessary, but nevertheless busted lips, plenty of blood and a very scratched snozzle. Injuries enough to make me thankful I'd replenished my TCP stash during my last trip to the UK. Dabbing at her little skinless, button nose I attempted to convince a strangely disappointed Finje that there was no need to call an ambulance on this occasion and stitches would not be required.
In doing so, I got to wondering how the heck Germany has managed to raise generations of slipping, tumbling, falling, tripping, skate-boarding, cycling, roller-skating children without the comfort blanket of a bottle of TCP in the cupboard. They've never even heard of it and there is no substitute that could hold a light up to it's excellence. How can that be? We had litres of the stuff in our family home.
My mother was of the opinion that if it couldn't be cured with TCP, a bowl of hot Heinz Tomato Soup and a slice of toast smeared with best butter, she might as well call the undertaker and start measuring you up.
It worked for me and it worked for Finje. Now, a few days later, she's fascinated by the daily facial scab development and all is well again in the Nowak household.
I wonder though whether we've gone a bit soft over the years. I remember our school nurse in secondary school. I'm pretty sure her first aid box consisted of junior aspirin, elastoplast and a triangular bandage. If you were in anyway unwell, the initial assumption was always skeptical. Double physics? Cross country running? Maths with the sadistic board rubber lobbing Mr Smith?
Should you have been unlucky enough to have a real life, genuine malady, you were made to lie down with a glass of water, take an aspirin and see if it "goes off with time." More often than not, to be fair, it did, and double physics had to be endured. Occasionally though, the "wait and see" method of nursing back-fired. The agony of a broken bone, for example, tends not to respond to aspirin and a lie down. Just ask Peter Williamson.
Well, tough love it was not in our house. Finje enjoyed an evening of cuddles, favorite foods and even, promise not to tell, unfettered access to the sweetie jar!
Well, she's worth it.