Today I would like to report a short anecdote in order to illustrate the psychological comfort of First Aid kits.
1. 7am, I run for the bus, stumble and fall. Pain and humiliation, blah blah. Grazed palms, torn tights and bleeding knees take me back to kindergarten and the incivilities of the sandpit. Not literally, you understand.
2. I limp into work with the face of a 5 year old struggling to keep her composure and swallow her tears, but without the snot.
3. I’m rescued by a kind co-worker armed with a first aid kit in one of those little green bags. She’s not even laughing at me.
4. The tears (rage? Humiliation/frustration?) are finally swallowed as I disinfect and bandage.
There, there, love, it’s all better now.
What do you mean, how old am I?
Michel Simon dans un musée du sexe ?
5 years ago
3 comments:
I had that once. First day in new job, and I stuck sellotape to my mouth. Ripped it off, taking most of my lower lip with it, then burst into tears. When anyone asked what was up, I just showed them the bits of lip (which I'd kept, of course) on the tape, and snuffled loudly.
And I used to wonder why they didn't take me seriously.
Band-aides really do make one feel better, whether they're really needed or not. :)
No MR Bump, just standard issue plasters.. regulation boring.
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