plantago

My six year old will gladly tell you of one hot sunny summer afternoon, when we found ourselves fruitlessly searching for hydrogen peroxide in all the cabinets. Next step in our quest, was a quick dash to our usually accommodating neighbor. Surprisingly (or not), her itinerary did not include waiting for, yet another, neighborly SOS signal. As little hands and knees continued to bleed and throb, my brain turned on the "turbo" mode and presto - the "plantago secret" was rediscovered. When I was a kid, we used those pesky weeds for all kinds of bleeding accidents, I remembered. Without further ado I grabbed, washed and applied...a couple of those green leaves to her "booboos". To my 21century, stone-jungle raised kid, those manipulations seemed almost voodooish . Boy, was she surprised when the bleeding stopped soon after, and she even lived to tell the tale.

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