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Friday, June 8, 2012

Band-aids. Dislike.

Ten Reasons Why I am Not Stuck on Band-aids and Why They Don't Stick on Me. Ever.

1. They're gross.
2. That brownish color they come in is even grosser.
3. I know there are Band-aid options now. I don't have to buy the gross brown ones when there are neon, sparkly, Princess, and every other kind of Band-aid available. But that's kind of like putting lipstick on a pig. No matter how you dress it up, a Band-aid is still a Band-aid.
4. They're sticky. I know that's the point, but it doesn't change the fact I don't like sticky things. Not even stickers.
5. They leave behind that gross, sticky, black residue that you have to scrape off.
6. They're hiding something and I don't like secrets. I can handle the truth. I can't guarantee I won't pass out if there's lots of blood involved, but that's preferable to looking at or wearing a Band-aid. And by "lots" I mean not very much.
7. The only way a Band-aid will come off is if you go swimming. The only thing grosser than a working Band-aid is a floating one. I don't think any one wearing a Band-aid should be allowed within ten feet of a swimming pool.
8. The only thing grosser than a floating Band-aid is used Band-aids stuck to the wall so the bloody part shows. I had a friend in high school whose little brother did this with all of his old Band-aids. I never saw the room, but every time I see a Band-aid I imagine what those walls looked like and it makes me gag. I avoid the possibility of my children ever doing this by never buying Band-aids nor allowing them to bleed.
9.  Band-aids never get thrown away. They just end up sticking to something else and then you find them and you have to unstick them from whatever they're stuck to and then they're stuck to you and eww. I'm feeling nauseous thinking about it.
10. Did I mention Band-aids are disgusting? No? Well, they are.


Barrett said...

I once cut myself washing Brittany's dishes while staying at her house for a few days. I almost bled to death. No Band-aid to be found anywhere at or near her house.

Becca said...

I love bandaids. The real ones. The brown ones. That stick and leave behind black bandaid schmutz. I love them with a great love, rivaling (possibly) your hate. Yay! Balance in our universe!

Pass them over to me. I'll take them off your hands. Metaphorically, you know. I don't want the actual icky bandaid off your actual hand.