I don't do blood.

   When the Hubby and I talked about having kids, we also talked about our bodily fluid strengths and weaknesses.  It was decided that I handled poop, pee and boogers and Hubby had puke and blood.  We should have known this never was a solid agreement because we weren't always going to be together with the kids 100% of the time.  Since having Girl A four years ago, Boy two years ago and Girl B a year ago, I have handled my far share of of everything.  Everything except blood.  I don't do blood.
   Here's why I don't do blood, it creeps me out. Imagine a person who looks like they are marching in place, while shaking their hands around them and emmitting a high pitched squeal...also known as the Creepy Dance.  That's me with blood, even my own. Even my kids' blood is not immune to my disliking when not circulating through their little bodies.  I don't know why, but when ever I see blood I get the chills and start doing the Creepy Dance.  So this afternoon when Girl A is screaming like she's on fire, and then I see her flinging her arm that is dripping with blood...(cringe at the thought) all I wanted to do was the Creepy Dance.
   There is blood on the wall, the carpet and dripping down her arm.  I bravely hold back my schrill screech, and say "What happened?"  Girl A stops her sobbing momentarily to tell me "The toy bin..waaaaah", and begins to shake her arm again, dripping blood Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh.  Apparently I've passed my blood creeps to her.  After deciding this wasn't something an ordinary bandaid would cover, we wash off the blood and sit on the kitchen floor fashioning a bandage out of gauze and Hello Kitty bandaids. All the while, in my head screeching like a banchee about the blood (another shudder). 
  After the arm is cleaned up, taped up and kissed she climbs back upstairs to go back to playing.  I take the evil toy bin out of the room and pitch it because what cut her was a metal ribbon used to make it a "pop-up" toy bin.  Once everything returns to normal and quiet...I finally do my creep out dance.  Yes, at 29 years old, I still do the creep out dance to the site of blood.  My job is not done.  Now I have to clean up the blood of the wall and carpet.  It's even creepier than dealing with it still on the kid. 
   Why can't these kids wait to get injured when the Hubby is home?  He's great with blood.  His Army training has given him the knowledge of how to insert an IV (not that I'd ever let him), he has watched them cut open a pig, just to staunch the bleeding with quick clot, he's built for this kind of thing, me not so much. Tonight I will undoubtedly have dreams of bleeding people causing a restless night and a cranky Momma tomorrow.  I just don't do blood.