CALLING ALL USED SPIDERMAN BANDAIDS

This morning was unlike any morning we've had in our house...EVER. Thankfully! It's Monday, which in our neighborhood is also trash day. While doing my usual garbage collecting throughout the house, Ethan noticed a used spiderman bandaid through one the trash bags. He asked me if I would get it out for him, to which I laughed off and replied "No, but I can get you a new one that looks just like that one." Well, that apparently was the wrong answer. Ethan started crying, telling me how I couldn't throw that spiderman bandaid away. We went the rounds about this used bandaid over and over again. He would stop crying while we rationally spoke about how we couldn't save used bandaids, and then he would again ask for me to get the bandaid out of the trash. He said we couldn't throw things like that away. Thinking that I would easily put this argument to rest, I told him that we would just store all the garbage in his room - used bandaids, diapers etc. He laughed at the used diapers and said we could throw those out, just not the bandaids. It was worth a shot - but I still lost.

We had been talking in circles for such a long time that I was finally able to get Ethan side tracked doing something else while I took the trash out, put it in the bin and rolled it out to the curb. Just as I returned to the house, Ethan asked me where his bandaid was - I explained that I had taken the garbage out. Tears started flowing, his voice reached octaves I haven't heard recently, and quite simply stated - he lost it. He ran out the door to the curb and was frantically pulling at the trash can screaming for me to help him before the garbage man came. (It was heartbreaking). To say that I was frustrated at that point would be an understatement. I should've gotten that bandaid out of the bag the first time and just let it go, but I didn't - because it was garbage. Now, things had gone too far. With the frantic cries for help, I was worried that the entire neighborhood would think I was disposing of his favorite toy or something, so after chipping the ice from my cold cold heart, I walked (and not happily I might add) to the trash can, pulled out the bag, ripped it open, rescued the bandaid and in a not so patient voice told Ethan that if I saw that bandaid on the floor or anywhere else, it would be returned to the trash can immediately. It was not one of my prouder moments as a mom, but Ethan was very relieved to have rescued his bandaid. After returning to the house, it dawned on me that his reaction was a result of our recent viewing of Toy Story 3... everything has feelings. Everything is alive, and therefore - everything must be rescued. Way to be the hero Ethan. I'm so sorry we've scarred you for life with that movie.

Note to self: all garbage bags must be removed from the house during bedtime hours.