Faith Healing

Last night Alec stumbled over the edge of the bathtub while he was getting out "all by myself." He smacked his bottom and inner thigh in a position that would make most men cringe. Shudder.

A few minutes later he was still crying and rubbing his bottom. I'd already kissed his head and cuddled him but the pain was apparently still there. I said, "Where is the owie, Alec?" He rolled over onto his tummy and showed me his cute little birthday suited butt. Sure enough it had a big ol' red mark on it.

Sniffling, he said, "Kiss it, Mommy." And so, naturally, I did.

And that was enough. The tears dried up, the wailing and gnashing of teeth dispersed. All was well with his world, and with his bottom.

I wish I had that kind of faith, that kind of belief in such simple healing.