That was gonna be an odd obituary...

A couple of weeks ago, Aubrey Kate suffered a traumatic injury.  I was right there too.  I didn't see it happen but I was just five feet away.  Isn't that what everyone says?  I swear, it's the truth.

We had returned home from some morning errands including a little time at the McDonald's indoor playground.  With the temperature hovering around 105, we had no plans to play outside.  The playground equipment is generally hot to the touch.  

As we pulled in to the garage, my next door neighbor was getting into her car.  We have lived here almost two years and we have never met.  Turns out she works in another city so she leaves really early and comes in really late.  I was holding Rhys (he has a tendency to run into the street) and Aubrey Kate was playing with her new Smurf while we were exchanging general neighborly information.  

All the sudden, Aubrey Kate falls somehow and starts screaming.  

Screaming.

I thought she might have broken something.

Quickly, I wrap up the conversation and go over to her.  I can't tell too much since she's screaming so much but from the looks of things, she's scraped her knee.

We get inside and head towards the bathroom.  I pull out the bandaids and a clean cloth.  

Still screaming.

As gently as possible, I clean the dirt away from her scrape and realize...

It's not even bleeding.

We have two options for bandaids:  Strawberry Shortcake and Puddin's bandaids (he left them here once and she thinks they are super cool because they were his.)

After much discussion, and more screaming, we decided on the smallest Strawberry Shortcake.  

Because it was small enough to cover it.  

We go to the living room and I offer to let her watch a movie, hoping that will help her calm down.  Yes, she would like to watch a movie and somehow, through all the whimpering, I finally understand her request.  

Turn the movie on and realize, holy moly, I'm still holding Rhys.

Wow.  He's heavy.

Rhys and I head to get a snack and play while Aubrey Kate lays in her blue chair continuing to cry about how she didn't want to get a boo-boo.

Clearly.

90 minutes later, with Aubrey Kate still crying, I put Rhys down for his nap.  I almost felt like apologizing to him for his sister's drama but then again, he's got a lifetime to deal with it.  

It is what it is, Rhys.

Now it was time to try and get Aubrey Kate settled for her "quiet time."  

I tried to talk with her.  Calm down, baby girl.  I know it hurts.  It will sting for a little while.  But let's be glad it's not a bad scrape!

Nope.  Not havin' it.

"BUT I DIDN'T WANT TO GET A BOO-BOO!"

You're kidding.  Because that's my goal every day.  

1.  Keep kids alive.

2.  Take a shower.

3.  Get boo-boo.

She was in her room for 90 minutes.  And she literally cried every second.  Several times I went in and asked her to calm down.  Get control.  That's enough, Aubrey Kate.

At this point, I'm wondering, how do I handle this for the rest of the night?  Will she keep going?  Will I be sane if she does?  Heavens.  Please, Lord, make it stop.

By bath time, when the crying, whining and screaming had continued straight on through dinner, she had hit an all-time low.  

Or all-time high based on the volume.  

She gingerly got into the bath.  Then kept her knee out of the water.  Because it would take the bandaid off.  

Right.

Rhys and AK were taking a bubble bath together.  Largely because she was going down for bed early. 

Or I was gonna die trying.

Rhys was playing well and loved getting washed.  He's ticklish which is oh so adorable.  

When it came time to wash Aubrey Kate, she lost it.

Lost.  It.

She started SCREAMING at me to not touch her and she didn't want a boo-boo and her bandaid was gonna come off.  

At that moment, I started laughing uncontrollably.

I lost it.

It was one of those moments when you simply cannot believe the absurdity of the situation.  

And where are the reality TV cameras?  

Had my head in my hands, sitting beside the tub, laughing that deep, nervous, tears in my eyes belly laugh.  

Look, I'm not proud.  I know knee scrapes hurt.  They sting like the dickens.  I get it.  

But what she was doing was drama for the sake of drama.  

I got control, let her get out of the tub without being washed and gave her the towel to dry herself off.  At least then if the bandaid came off, it was totally her fault.

Got her dressed, read a story, sang, said our prayers and I tucked her in.

All while she was still crying.  

I just ignored it.  As did Rhys.  

Finally, around 8:15 pm, she managed to cry herself to sleep.  

Based on the amount of screaming and crying, you would have thought she was knocking on death's door.  

I suspect no one has ever died from a scraped knee.  Especially one that didn't even bleed.  

Thankfully, she woke up the next morning much more accepting of her injury.  And actually went sans Strawberry Shortcake.  

Which is good because that was the only small one we had.

The scrape is healed now.  Maybe a little red spot.  She says she'll thank God for healing her knee when she can't see the red anymore.  

That will likely happen in October.

So in all seriousness, any advice on how to handle this little girl and her drama?  Is this normal?  And if so, then Mom, Dad, I am SO SORRY.  What would you have done differently?  

If you don't have any advice, I'll take your prayers.  We're gonna need them.  A lot.