Pimple Care

I went to get Violet out of bed this morning.  I unfortunately had a pimple just under my lip.

"You got a pimple?" Violet said.

"Yes, unfortunately I do," I said.

The first level of care in Violet's world was to call upon her animals.  Her favorite stuffed animals each gave it a kiss in turn.  "Bear-bear will give your pimple a kiss," she said and shoved him in my face.

"Thank you," I said.

"And Monkey will give your pimple a kiss."  She shoved Monkey into my face.

"Thank you," I said again.

After the stuffed animal curative session was through, Violet was going to help.  She jumped out of bed and headed to her dresser.  I didn't know what she was going to do.  She pulled out one of her favorite pink sweaters and climbed back into bed toward me.

"Here you go, Daddy."

"What's this for?" I asked.

"It for your pimple," she said and thrust it into my face.

"Thank you," I said, yet again.

"There you go.  Does it feel better?"

"Yes," I said.  "That's very nice of you."  Then she complained when I took the sweater off my face in a minute.  I wonder if she really thought I should wear a pink sweater on my face all day.