My thumb

I know what is my thumb and what is my little finger.

Today I fell on my thumb in the garden and there was a little scratch. Of course I cried, not of pain, but of disappointment of having fallen. Because we are playing in the garden, my mama says she will put some cream on and a band-aid. I let it all happen in silence, but afterwards I run to papa: 'Band-aid, band-aid!'.

Then we go to the library. The band-aid is in the way of climbing, so he has to come off.

In the evening I am bored when we eat: Band-aid, band-aid! I say to mama. Mama puts the band-aid back on. Band-aid off! We take the band-aid off. The thumb becomes more and more painfull, the longer I think of it. In the end I cannot do anything with it anymore, but hold my hand painfully in the air. Hmmm, why are papa and mama laughing??