You know that seemingly unnecessary box of first aid materials hiding away in your mother-in-law's bathroom closet? That box with anything you could possibly need to bandage any sort of wound? Possibly short of a dismembered appendage... but in all honesty, she could probably fix that too.
Yea. That box.
If you haven't duplicated that box, I highly suggest you drop what you're doing right now; grab your mother-in-law (or ask ever so nicely if she will accompany you); and take her to your nearest drug store. Let her tell you what to buy because she's been through this before. Five times. She knows.
Otherwise, you'll end up like me. You'll put it off because you don't realize how much you'll need that box one day. That or you're just a moron.
And then (yes, I'm beginning sentences inappropriately with conjunctions), your accident-prone daughter will fall a horrible fall.
The girl who tripped over her own feet at least 10 times before we even made it into the amusement park last week--
The girl who was literally a second away from running into a ginormous, potted plant at the same amusement park before her aunt so lovingly saved her--
The girl who would walk right into a glass door if there weren't dirt spots on it--
The signs will be there. You will want to kick yourself because you should have seen it coming.
Your daughter will be walking, harmlessly down your sidewalk, and somehow tumble, head forward, down your steep, concrete steps, just missing the street.
And you will be wracking your brain in panic mode while pretending everything is perfectly fine as your daughter freaks out about her bloody arms and legs.
You'll get her cleaned up as best as you can without peroxide (because unbeknownst to you, the bottle is empty). You'll cover her wounds with Neosporin since you actually manage to keep that on hand. All the while, you'll know you have nothing suitable to cover the gaping lesions. Those little Emoji Band-Aids aren't going to hack it this time. Let's be honest, they're just glorified stickers with substandard adhesive. They're for the rookie league scrapes. This is big-time. And you suck. Because you have nothing.
What's a mom to do?
Yep. Cover your kid with panty liners and leftover FabWrap.
That's what I had to use to wrap my kid's leg.
Because I didn't have the freaking box of seemingly ridiculous wound care materials.
Moms and dads of America, I implore you: be more prepared than I was for your kid's first, big, bang-up, blowout.
Or... be like me, and leave your crying kid covered in panty liners and ice packs as you run to CVS.