My grandson spent a fabulous day with us late August.  We went to the local pool.  He jumped in.  He jumped in and he swam three strokes.  He jumped in and he swam five strokes.  He made it up to twelve strokes on his own.  After a year of swimming lessons and a summer of camp, he was swimming by himself!  This called for ICE CREAM!  To make a long story short, when his mom came to pick him up, he was so excited and he ran and he fell on the cement and skinned his knee really badly.  Of course his mom took him to the first aid station.  They cleaned his knee and put a band aid on but the boo-boo was larger than the band aid and my grandson was hysterical and there was nothing to do but let him cry it out.  FINALLY, his sobs subsided into sniffles.  I took a chance.  I am very careful not to step on his mom’s toes.  “Can I talk to your knee?”  I asked my grandson.  Even his mother was intrigued.  “Knee,”  I said, “You do not have the power to take away what my grandson accomplished today.  He succeeded in swimming all by himself.”  My grandson looked at me, smiled through his tears, and said:  “Gotcha!”