Yesterday was a gorgeous day. A windows down kind of day.
We were leaving IKEA and almost to the car when Bentley somehow cut his finger on a nearby parked car. The cut was about the size of a papercut with a drop or two of visible blood. I told him to hop in and I'd look for a band-aid. I started my half-hearted hunt as Chod started the car and we headed on our way, with the windows down and the sunroof open. By the time we had made it out of the parking lot and onto the road Bentley was hysterically yelling at us to roll-up the windows. We couldn't figure out why a little fresh air was such a big deal to him, but he continued to yell about the windows and then something about how blood stains. It wasn't until after Chod had rolled up all windows and closed the sunroof that we put it all together.
He was afraid the wind coming through the open windows was going to splatter blood all over and stain his clothes and the car.
Chod turned to me, "How bad is this cut? Does he need a tourniquet?"
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