William, who seems to have inherited my lack of finger dexterity, has taken an interest in cutting. I’d be excited if he was cutting paper. But he’s not. He’s cutting clothes.
Here’s the conversation we had a week ago.
“What happened to your shirt?” I asked, holding up his favorite back-to-school top.
“I cut it.”
“You cut it?”
“At school or at home?”
“Was it on purpose or by accident?”
“Why did you do it?
“Were you bored? Angry? Curious?”
He processed this multiple choice question for a while. “Bored,” he chose.
More recently, he’s progressed regressed to cutting pants. I noticed this while I was folding the laundry yesterday.
“William,” I said, holding up the evidence. “Can you stop cutting your clothes?”
“Okay,” he agreed. “But last time I didn’t cut my clothes.”
I paused, trying to figure out what he meant. “What did you cut?” I asked.
“I cut my hair,” he said. “Here.” He pointed to his bangs. I observed a jaggedy bang.
“William!” I said. “Scissors are for paper.”
“No they’re not,” answered Vivian. “Miss B cuts our hair with them.”
“Okay, they’re also for professionals to cut your hair.”
“What are professionals?” Vivian asks.
“Never mind.” I breathed deeply, trying to send some oxygen to my aging brain cells. “William?” I continued. “No cutting anything but paper with scissors, okay?”
“Okay,” he answered and wandered off to play with his Transformer.
The score: Scissors 3, Mending Pile 2, Mommy 0
Any scissor stories out there?
The winners of my 100th post jewelry giveaway are Commenter #15 , karmavore ( who will receive a sloane enamel bangle) and Commenter #24, Jen (who wins delicate drop earrings). Thanks to all who commented and to Lauren Davis, an independent stylist with Stella and Dot Jewelry, for donating the beautiful pieces.