~Scratchy Conversations~

As I was trying to get Eamon to get into the shower...

Eamon:  <despondently> "Mommyyyy... can you come here?"

Me:  "What is it?"

Eamon:  "You have to come here."

Me:  "What do you have to tell me in the bathroom that you can't tell me in the TV room?"

Eamon:  "You just need to come here."

Even though it couldn't be too severe of a problem since he was calmly staring at me while standing naked in the hallway, I decided to go see what he wanted. 

Eamon:  <pointing sadly at three scraches on his ankle that he got several days ago while we were walking the dog and took a wrong turn through brambles>  "When are these scars going to go away?"

Me:  "Those are scratches, not scars and they will definitely be gone in three years, if not sooner."

Eamon:  "Three years!?  But I'll be eleven then!"

Me:  "I know.  And the scratches will be gone by then.  If not, I promise we'll go to the doctor."

Eamon:  *sigh*

Ahh, my little hypochondriac! ;)