I don't remember doing this, cause I was 3 at the time. I wandered into the kitchen, where my mother was doing some cooking prep, and my father was doing some paperwork of some sort. I said "Mom, I think I hurt myself." She said, "Oh no, you're fine." In her defence, prior to this if I ever so much as gotten a tiny scratch, I would be screaming my head off. My father looked up and said, "No Anita, he's hemorrhaging!" She turned around to find that I was bleeding from multiple gashes in all five fingers on my right hand.

Apparently, I had gone into my parents room, which I knew I shouldn't be in. Gotten into their closet, which I knew was even more off limits. Pulled my mother's sewing kit out, which I knew was super duper off limits!!! Found her pizza cutter razorblade thing that is used to cut cloth, and proceeded to disassemble the thing, managing to slice all five fingers on my right hand three times trying not to drop it. I've no idea what I was gonna do with the thing. Apparently I had to get multiple stitches in each finger.

I'm the 3rd of 5, though it was 3.5 at the time.