Magic Scratch Tape

Gab refers to adhesive tape – scotch tape, masking tape, duct tape, packaging tape – as ‘scratch tape’ (henceforth in this post, ‘scratch tape’ means all and any kind of adhesive tape) and she harbors this idea that scratch tape is the ultimate household solution to anything that needs fixing. Thus she asks for scratch tape to mend broken things be they made of paper, wood, rubber, plastic, aluminum or metal. She uses scratch tape on toys, picture frames, fridge magnets, bags, door knobs and shoes. And her latest attempt, on a drinking glass.

I had a PTC (that stands for Parents-Teachers Conference for those of you who are uninitiated, lucky you) one afternoon at her school so I left her concurrently painting and watching TV in her playroom. I came back home after an hour or so and the first thing I asked Liza, our househelp, was if Gab looked for me while I was gone. Liza said Gab just fell asleep exhausted from crying because she was upset having broken a drinking glass which I, I should say, stupidly left on top of her desk. I asked if Gab had a cut, Liza said she couldn’t tell because Gab wouldn’t let Liza check her hands.

Liza’s complete account was like this: Gab suddenly and frantically called out to her asking for scratch tape. When Liza hurried upstairs with the tape dispenser, Gab burst out crying and said: “Yaya, help me! Help me put it back together” pointing to the pieces of broken glass on the floor.

My poor baby. I found her curled up on the couch, fast asleep, clutching to her breast a shirt of mine which she had taken from the hamper. When I tried to pry her hands open to see if she had a cut, she woke up and immediately her face crumpled while she told me of the accident. I assured her it was okay, that I wasn’t angry with her and that I was thankful she wasn’t hurt. She said she had blood on her hand but I convinced her that she didn’t. Only on the next day would I discover a tiny cut on her finger that didn’t go deep enough to bleed.

She ran a fever that afternoon which I can only attribute to her first experience with broken glass (you can imagine how scary that must have been for her) as the fever didn’t recur that night or on the day after.

We are lucky. Lucky and protected. Lucky because Gab thought of asking for scratch tape right away prompting Liza to check on her. And Gab was protected by her angels whom we remembered to thank that night for having kept our child safe.

We'll be needing a lot more of that scratch tape for all sorts of mending as she grows up.