So, yesterday I got C’s leg cut off.
Or at least that’s what you would think was happening.
My sweet girl had a “mollescum contagiosum” on her left thigh that had to be removed to ensure it would not spread on the rest of her body. It looks like a mole without color, it gets a red rash around it if you leave it untreated for a long time [3-6 months]. Apparetly a lot of kids get it from swimming pools, sharing towels, and rubbing against people in that spot with the virus [this better not be the case!].
She was so scared to get it cut off. She said it hurt, but she was kind of laughing after she started crying. I felt terrible. It was the first time I had put her through something she wasn’t really convinced was the right decision. I coddled her. I was upset that she was upset, I am sure that isn’t what I am supposed to do, as the Mom [decision maker].
At one point when she was crying I said to her, “Don’t cry Ugly Girl, you are going to make me cry!”
In our world, “Ugly” is actually a term of endearment. I asked last night [after she was over the trauma] if she remembered me calling her Ugly Girl, she said No… She was too busy fighting the thought of getting her leg cut off. Sheesh!
So, she is fine now and off to spend a nice weekend at the beach with her Mom and family before school starts on Monday. Lucky girl! Pray for her as she enters the 7th grade… with 2 full legs minus 1 mollescum!