Pain Before Plain

Today when I picked C and D up from the outdoor camp they have been going to throughout the summer C looked like this. (They had called me to tell me about it but I had been on a work call until literally the minute before I jumped out of car to get her).

C had been hiking with a group and from what I understand she fell on the rocks. She was in better spirits than I would have expected. The coaches kept telling

me that she refused repeated offers for bandaids and ice packs.

When we got in the car I asked her, giant goose egg and all, why she refused the ice pack.

C: "Because it wasn't cute."

Me: "And what about the band aids?"

C: "Because they only had plain ones, and those wouldn't make me feel better."

Lucky for her, Chez Dodson hasn't seen a plain band aid since 2005....

P.S. On a side note, it was a good lesson for me in not categorizing my kids. I always think of D as the tough one. The coach told me that he had never seen a tougher kid, that she hardly got upset, that she kept on hiking and that she enjoyed the rest of the morning. And she had gone on the hike even though D had decided not to go. And she couldn't wait to get back to camp the next day, where as D decided she didn't want to go anymore. I wouldn't have guessed any of it. Shame on me.