Connor is a hypochondriac. That is a fact.
Once we'd arrived at Mario's for a speech therapy session and Connor had limped heavily into the room. Mario had noticed that as well as the plasters on his feet and had asked in concern, "Oh why is he limping? Is he okay?" I'd snorted. "Oh it's nothing. He's just had this little paper cut on his toes and insisted that I put plasters on his feet." Mario had laughed because from the way Connor was acting, it looked like he'd dropped a one-ton block of cement on his feet and was recovering from it.
Every now and then, my son will come to me and point out various "ow's" (our word for hurt) and ask for bandages and "Pooh bear plasters". If you haven't seen them, Hansaplast makes kiddy-friendly plasters that are printed with cartoon characters. I bought a pack for him and he loves them! Too much, I would say.
The other day while he was putting up a fight during "brush teeth time", I told him sternly that the dentist had told Mummy that if Mummy didn't brush his teeth properly, he would get worms in his mouth. This proved to be a mistake as he's now coming up to me and declaring "Mummy, Connor has worms in (insert body part)... Mummy please give Connor a plaster?"
It's almost as bad as his OCD-ness... but that's a story for another day.
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