You're gonna put an eye out

So today was garage cleaning day. Mason loves this kind of Saturday because he knows we need him out of our hair, which means he gets to spend the day at next best place to Michael Jacksons Neverland Ranch, Nonna's house. He gave us the rundown of his day when he got home, basically it was McDonalds, Swimming, Playing, Swimming, Playing, Swimming, Dairy Queen, Home.

Meanwhile, things were going great at home. Reed was in his walker, Jaime and I were working together putting up a new shelving unit, and right in the middle of our second chorus of Kumbaya(spelling), we hear THE scream. Not just A scream, but THE scream, the one every parent knows, the one where you instantly move, not think....move. Just as we hear the scream, we look and Reed is about ten feet away with his walker butted up against a box fan I had running on high. We saw his fingers through the front mesh and heard the "thathathathathatha" of the fingers square in the middle of the fan. I don't know who reacted faster, me or Jaime, but from what I can replay in my mind, we looked alot like the Chinese Circus girls. You know the ones who bend in all positions and one does a hand stand on the others head. That was us, a rolling ball across the garage to Reed. I didn't see any blood, so I was pretty sure the digits were still connected, but never the less as I grabbed him, I scoped out a soft place to land in the event I pulled a queezy wedding groom move (the pile of crushed drywall would do). Fortunately, the fans today are made of saran wrap and play-doh, so he was fine in a few minutes. Mason wasn't really an outlet poker if you know what I mean, but Reed will swallow every marble he can get his tooth around.