How is it?

Today Connor developed a huge blister on the palm of his hand from the monkey bars at school. Without being too gross, it popped and had a big flap of skin over it. When we got home to get ready to go to the baseball game, Mike took the scissors and cut the skin off and wrapped it with a little piece of gauze and some tape. No complaints. We went to the baseball game and Connor pitched two innings, played in various other spots for 4 more innings, and batted and hit the ball at least 3 times. Not ONE word about the blister! How is it that when we get home to finish homework and get ready for bed the blister is suddenly so painful that we don't even know if we will be able to write our spelling words? 45 minutes of moaning and groaning later, all homework and reading is complete and I am sure that my little boy will be a man one day. How else could he milk the "injury" this much and how could the blister have conveniently only hurt after the baseball game? In the words of Clemson girl, "I'm just saying..."

I don't recall hearing a word about the blister at this point! Notice the smile~...