The day that I figured out how to use scissors, I remember wavering around the activity room in nursery school, singing to myself “I can cut / I can cut / I can cut…”, until I snipped an awkward gash in a medium stack of construction paper. A teacher admonished me, and presented me the paper. WELL IT’S YOURS NOW, she said. I was devastated. I didn’t want the paper, but… it was mine now.
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there’s something in this.
Nobody likes a paper cut?
well, i was going for more profundity than that. the whole “you have to own your mess.” it’s weird that the teacher felt the need to impart that particular life lesson upon you at that time in your life, but it’s a pretty poignant one.
Evidently she failed to teach you not to run with scissors in advance.
That’s almost as pithy!
I keep wishing I could contrive it so whenever someone around here spits on the sidewalk, it would bounce back into his mouth again.
You didn’t have scissor races in nursery school? Dude, you missed out.
We might have had those, but I wouldn’t have been able to participate because they either wouldn’t have any left-handed scissors, or the one pair they had would be an unbelievably dull pair from 1956.
And, as we all know, in order to properly scissor race, the scissors must be sharp.
Eventually I started just carrying my own scissors from home around with me, but, as has happened to me many times, by that point the fun and games were over and no one wanted to scissor race anymore. (Even though technically he didn’t lose the eye. Sheesh.)
Finder’s keepers, I always say.
Losers weep– er, losers leakers?
so whenever someone around here spits on the sidewalk, it would bounce back into his mouth again.
i’m pretty sure this is the most awesome thing you have ever said. is that sad? i don’t think so.
Good post (o^^)b
The voice of experience, I’m sure.
What brand are the scissors at your school?