Burn

Poor Coops. He always climbs on our island. He eats there, he watches me fix dinner there, he makes messes up there. But on Saturday, he stuck his hand on a hot griddle there. I had my back turned. I felt/feel horrible. Like really horrible. He cried and cried for a couple hours. I had to hold his hand in ice water, then keep it wrapped in icy cool clothes. Luckily Aunt Susie, the Nurse, was here to help with the wound care through yesterday. Now we are on our own.

He isn't in great pain anymore, but we have to keep it covered, and clean, and trim off the skin as it dies. Ew. He is one tough kid. Now he calls his blister, his egg. He walks around saying, " I hurt. My egg." WHAT??? I guess the blister looks kind of like an egg? Or he says, " My hand sore. Cloth." He likes his wrap to be very clean and new all the time. Rather tricky with a 2 year old. Sigh.

These photos were taken 3 days later. I couldn't bring myself to take pictures the first few days.