Medicaid for Children

Whenever Mark colors in his animal for class, he always adds “scars”. He sits at the table, legs wiggling and mouth moving. There is always a running narrative during this process, such as, “This is where the hunter slashes him, uhg!, before he escaped…” “This is from a bee bee gun, bang! that did no damage to his vital organs.” “These are blood drops on the ground!” Red marker begins to overwhelm his picture.
“Mark, please don’t pound the marker tip.”
“Oh, sorry Mom. I got a little carried away.”
Yesterday, he was finishing “scarring” his fox while narrating. Then he started drawing band-aids over the scars while saying, “Medicaid! Medicaid!”
“Medicaid?” I questioned.
“Yeah, it’s a band-aid with medicine.”
“Oh really, who’s going to pay for Medicaid?”
“Oh, everybody does Mom. Everybody. Medicaid! Medicaid!” he chanted while finishing his fox.
Today’s animal was a yak. “oh, I can’ take it, ugh!” was the running narrative, “Bang! A bee bee gun. Bang! A real gun! Oh no, he’s dead.”
“Dead?” I inquired.
“As a doorknob,” answered Mark, “see the Xs on his eyes?
“What about Medicaid?”
“It’s too late for this guy, Mom.”