Recently, I've noticed something.
That, in itself is remarkable.
Moving on . . .
I work with a group of elderly people.
Some of them like nothing better than talking about their health.
Or lack thereof.
I've been treated to stories of gall bladders.
And a plethora of aches and pains.
I cluck sympathetically.
Knowing that each of these ailments will probably visit me at some point.
But what is truly remarkable is the fact that the very young people I also associate with, ie. my grandchildren, are equally interested in their health.
Scrapes, bruises and cuts are examined minutely and then displayed, accompanied by a lurid tale of woe.
Sometimes, a tiny wound might go undetected for several days. Have scabbed over and be well on its way to healing. But once discovered, it must be fussed over and bandaged and kissed.
My two-year-old granddaughter had fallen and bumped her head.
Just above her eye.
After the initial tears and hysteria, she had examined her wound in the mirror.
There was a distinct bruise above her eye.
“Mom!” she said loudly. “Bonk eye!”
Her mother agreed that, yes, she had 'bonked' her eye.
But that wasn't enough.
She had to tell everyone in the room.
Later, at dinner, she mentioned it again.
Several more times.
Her uncle Tristan, having been at an activity, was late to dinner.
He slid into his chair and started dishing out food.
Here was someone new to tell.
“Unca Tristan!” she said, “Bonk eye!”
Tristan looked at her. “Yes, I see that you bonked your eye,” he said. He started eating.
“Unca Tristan, look! Bonk eye!”
“Yes,” he said.
“Bonk eye, Unca Tristan!”
She took a couple of bites of food. Then, “Unca Tristan!”
“I know,” he broke in, rather wearily.
This went on through the remainder of the meal.
And every time we saw her for the next few weeks.
Long after the slight bruise had healed.
And until the next injury pushed it off the front page.
Then it was, “Unca Tristan! Look!”
He looked at me. “On, man. Are we going to have another chorus of 'bonk-eye'?” he said.
Most important at each end of the age scale.
Differing only in seriousness.
Not in concern.