Of Band-Aids and Heartache

Ethan used his patented two-armed-slide-under-a-vehicle, or in this case the vibrating baby seat, to fix somefing this morning. Unfortunately, he did not calculate the risks of performing this manuever on a wood floor and ended up with two splinters in his rear end, one of which was at least two (2) inches long. Agony! I don't think he cried that hard after shutting his fingers in the door last year. Even after a band-aid, Tylenol, phone calls to Dad and Gramma, and a bowl of ice cream, he was settled on the couch watching Curious George and still letting out periodic shrieks. "I just want someone to make it stop hurting," he sobbed. Oh, if only. Why don't these babies come with a magic wand we could use for just such a purpose? And I realize the things that will bring suffering to these little hearts will get farther and farther from my control. I can keep stocking Band-Aids and ice cream, but how do I prepare for the rest of those hurts?