The maddening thing about kids is that they don't understand that when you pick at a scab, it won't heal. Mack got this scrape on his forehead almost two weeks ago, tripping in the driveway. Given how vascularized the face is, this should have healed at least a week ago--maybe even less, it was such a small abrasion. Instead, he picked and picked and picked at it until it was all bleeding and oozy, and it was only through extreme distraction and a dose of hypnosis that I was able to keep a Band-Aid on, just to keep his hands out of the way. Of course, he can easily rip the Band-Aid off, it's just a matter of distracting him long enough that he forgets he has the Band-Aid on in the first place. It's either that, or he's going to look like Mikhail Gorbachev.
(YES, I'm aware that Mikhail Gorbachev has a port wine stain or nevus flammeus, not a scar, thank you, MEDICAL STUDENTS OF EARTH. Of which my sister is one, so I am therefore free to make fun of you guys! But with love!)
I have seriously considered bringing home a Tegarderm or some sort of mega-adhesive to foil Mack's attempts to rip off his dressings, but unfortunately his scrape is a little too close to the hairline. I have also considered getting one of those dog cones. (This possibility is still under consideration.)