How do I love thee? Let me count the owies.

By now you know me.  I'm a little on the accident prone side (St. Lucia anybody?).  I've never really gotten used to this 6'3" frame and these size 13 feet so I run into the occasional wall and stub my toes on a daily basis.  This past couple of weeks, finishing the build out of our new room, I racked up quite a few notches. ... literally.  Ripped off half my pinkie toenail.  Sliced my thumb on sheet mettle.  My hands on razor blades.  Knee on a piece of molding.  Oh. ... and I electrocuted myself 3 times.  Twice on the same outlet!  So know that we're done I've got a number of band-aids still clinging on.  Now, Genevieve is my sweet little soul.  Her most defining trait (aside from running in to walls like her dad) is her compassion.  When Karma had surgery she would sit with her and "read" books.  When Arianna gets hurt, she's right there stroking her back or giving out kisses.  So it's only natural that every time I stop moving, she's right there to count up all of my owies.  We sat on the floor last night before dinner and went through them all.  "Owie Dada, owie".  "Yes, that's an owie".  "Owie Dada."  "Yep, that's another one."  "Owie."  Yep, you're right!"  This seriously could have gone on forever.  What's crazy is she even remembers the former owies.  Like the slice on my thumb, which I took the band-aid off of a couple days ago.  She still goes right to it, points it out and gives it a kiss.  I will be surprised if this kid doesn't end up as a doctor, nurse or a vet (she's got that fondness for animals too).  There's just too much natural compassion for the condition of those around her for her not to be some sort of caregiver later in life.  Not that Arianna lacks compassion - she's also a total sweetheart - Genevieve just oozes it.