AITA for refusing to let Mom and Dad fix my BIG BOOBOO after I fell off the kitchen table?

Hi. I’m James. I’m three. My chin hurts and the world is unfair.

So I was on the kitchen table (yes, the table, not a crime—just elevation for inspiration). My brother left his Legos there, and obviously I was building a spaceship. A good one. Better than NASA. Things were going amazing until I leaned in to place a crucial piece and BAM—gravity betrayed me. Chin met floor. Tears met cheeks. Life met tragedy.

Mom rushed over like she was auditioning for a hospital drama. Dad followed with a band-aid in hand like that would fix EVERYTHING. I said, no thank you. They said, you’re bleeding. I said, I need time to process. They said, sit still. I said, stop touching me! They tried to clean it—I screamed. They tried to hold me down. I said, is this a democracy or not?!

Then they started bribing me. Popsicle. Stickers. EVEN Pookie walked in and offered a head bump of solidarity. But it was the principle of the thing. I didn’t want that band-aid. I wanted the dinosaur one. Or no band-aid. Or maybe just freedom.

Now they’re saying I was “making it harder than it had to be” and “scaring the cat.” But I ask you: AITA for standing up (and falling down) for what I believe in—complete bodily autonomy and band-aid choice?

Let the internet decide.