Red Red Red

Pook has never really been fond of red. He won't eat a red sucker, won't wear red unless it's camouflaged as something else (like spiderman), and won't eat red foods except for strawberries. He hates blood because it's red.  Yet, today, he reached a new level of aversion to red. 


Yesterday Pook was swinging on a rope. The rope scraped the top layers of skin off of both his middle fingers. Nothing serious in the scheme of childhood injuries and even less serious compared to the injuries he's had. Today though, the layers of hanging skin dried out and necessitated being cut off. This revealed the new and somewhat still raw flesh underneath. This flesh was..................you got it...........RED. 


Hence began the several hour long battle. Pook insisted that we take him to the doctor to have his two fingers cut off. Yep, you read right. CUT OFF. He kept screaming that he didn't want the red touching him. He had to have the red off. He begin biting his fingers, clawing his legs, and slamming into the sliding glass door. I held him providing deep sensory input as long as I could, but after a lengthy period of his not calming down, we decided to strap him in his car seat and go for a ride. (while in car seat injury to self is minimal and easier to prevent) We took him to a playground and got him a slushy which helped distract him temporarily. However, in the bathtub at home later in the evening, he saw his fingers again and melted. We spent the next hour holding him with his begging us to take him to the doctor to have his fingers cut off. 


Pook finally fell asleep in a state of pure exhaustion from his thrashing and screaming. I DREAD tomorrow morning.