Flanagan Clan

Patrick got his first burn on Sunday. What happened was I had just pulled the rolls out of the oven, closed the door and turned away for a second to put the oven mitts in the drawer next to the oven, when Patrick came up and tried to grab a roll off the top of the stove. This is the first time he’s ever been burned, but when it happened all he did was yell in pain for a moment, and afterwards he didn’t cry as I hurried to put his hand under cold water. Afterwards, we noticed him looking at his hand several times, but he didn’t complain about his injury. I couldn’t even figure out exactly where the burn was because I couldn’t see any burn marks on his skin and Patrick didn’t show me exactly where it hurt. So a day later I was amazed to see a large scab running across his entire wrist… he’s a tough little kid. I know if it happened to me, I’d of cried my head off. But anyways, I’ve been caring for his wound. I’ve been keeping it covered, and rubbing ointment on it. Today while I was changing his dressings, I thought it would be fun to draw something on the large, boring beige bandage. I pulled out a sharpie and drew a smiley face. Patrick looked at it and said, “Who’s dat?”. I told him, “Dada”. He looked at me, very puzzled, and said very sternly, “Dat not Dada!”.