The Apple and the Tree

In our family room there is a ceiling fan that is operated by a switch. For a long time Thomas was fascinated by the fan, and he'd turn it on just to watch it spin around. Then he graduated to tossing up small items -- spare Duplo blocks, a Dora the Explorer figurine, etc. -- and ducking as they came careening down back at him. (For this period of time I simply left the room, because stopping him was not an option. I figured he'd get dinged a couple of times and quit. It took a few dozen more times than "a couple," but eventually the gravity theory -- or cause and effect -- took hold and he quit on his own... Those weeks were punctuated by the slow mechanical whir of the fan, the sound of small plastic items hitting the wood  and ricocheting off, and small, surprised, "Ow!"'s. Always surprised... sigh.) The latest thing is to stand on the back of the couch and place items on the fan blades (while off) --just because he can.

Yesterday Matt came home and happened to notice a small plastic toy perched on a fan blade: "What's that? A toy?" I was washing dishes; I turned and agreed that yes, that was a toy, and gee, let's guess who was responsible? I looked back at the dishes, then whipped my head back around when I heard the unmistakable sound of the fan motoring up. Sure enough, Matt had turned it on to get the part off... spin, spin, whooosh! The toy went flying -- luckily in the direction of a mostly-empty wall, and not in the direction of the glass-fronted fireplace, or the TV, or one of our framed art pieces, also covered in glass.

I looked at my intelligent husband -- who had a sheepish look on his face, it must be said -- and raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

Matt laughed, and shook his head at himself. "I didn't think about it all the way through," he admitted.

Really.

Huh.

I never would have noticed.

LOL