Rachel has been most interested in the fans around the house. They have “grills” on the front that spin around to direct the airflow of the fan. Upon trying, and failing, to stick her finger through the grill, Rachel took a personal vendetta against the fan. She was going to stick her finger through that grill or die in the process.
Naturally she’s heard a lot more of the word “NO!” since she started on this little quest than before.
She’ll stick her little pointer out and will aim, ever so carefully, at a hole in the rotating grill and slowly move towards it…
“No! Rachel! Stop! You’ll get hurt.”
So she’ll stop, once more thwarted but still wanting to try. It didn’t matter how many times we said no, she wanted to get around that grill!
She succeeded this week, noticing that the back of the fan doesn’t have a grill that moves around, not only making it easier to stick her fingers through but also making it easier to hide what she was doing. While I was reading on the couch, Rachel was behind the fan and before I could tell her to step away there was a sickening grinding noise and Rachel fell backwards screaming and pointing angrily at the fan with her mangled little finger—the same one she’d just stuck inside.
“Ahhh! Ahhh! Ahhhh!” she accused before breaking down into terrified sobs.
I scooped her up and she screamed into my chest, cradling her hand.
“That’s why Mommy and Daddy keep saying no,” I told her, “Let me see your finger.”
After a bit of a tussle I finally got a good-ish look at her finger. She had a series of little cuts, so small they looked like paper cuts. Only one was bleeding, a small flap of skin flapped around, like flaps of skin do. I wasn’t all that worried about her injuries. She was.
I imagine it wouldn’t be a fun thing to experience and we’d hoped that maybe she’d learn her lesson. Alas, she tried to stick her finger through the fan again that afternoon.
Perhaps I’d misinterpreted her goal. Perhaps she didn’t want to merely get her finger through the grate. Perhaps her actual goal was to cut off her finger. Who knows?
Update: I just caught Andrew sticking his finger in the fan in Sara’s kitchen. Maybe it is genetic.
Update: Rachel also bit a bar of soap in half this morning while she was taking a bath. She gagged and then threw up. I think there is still a half bar of soap in her tummy. Maybe she’s just crazy.