Never Use Scissors As a Tool

Mabel, expressing her disappointment. "I can't believe you did that, mom."

I'm embarassed to admit that I misused the scissors this morning.

The cat food container was stuck closed. It was very tightly sealed.

The food dishes were empty.

The (in their minds) gaunt kitties were starving.

The husband was already gone, so help was not available except for the above mentioned wasting-away gray girls.

What to do? What to do?

The not-intelligent thinker in my head suggested that I use scissors to pry up the lid.

Not the round-tipped kid scissors. No. Let's try the pointy-tipped very sharp scissors. Yes. Those will help tremendously.

I didn't need to be told twice, but grabbed the pointy-tipped scissors and began trying to pry up an edge on the food container.

Just as I was thinking This is not a good idea. These scissors could slip off of the metal and poke me. the unthinkable (apparently not unthinkable, as I had just thought it) happened. The scissors skidded off of the metal tin and slid right into my face!

Yes. Berating myself, I immediately felt blood running down my cheek.

Yes. I stabbed myself on the face.

As Hermoine Granger said in one of the Harry Potter movies, "What. An. Idiot."

I am forever grateful that God saved me from my poor choice and protected my eyes, nose, and lips. He did not save me from crumbled pride. How humiliating to admit the error of my ways.

I am grateful that the small puncture and slice wound is tiny and the rest of me works quite well.

Warning from one who used scissors improperly: DO NOT use scissors as a tool. They are for cutting. Not prying, digging, scooping, or any other chore. Cutting. Period.

When was my last tetanus shot?

Flat Tire

(Trust me, it looks bigger in real life...)

Good thing it snowed a little tonight.

For a rare treat, we went to see the new Sherlock Holmes movie - a date if you will, complete with popcorn for lunch. I really enjoyed the movie. Everyone kept saying it was hard to follow, so we did our homework before we went. We watched the first movie to get our brains in order to follow minute details and slow mo action. Then we watched the movie. Pretty good. Actually some very funny parts! I HATE torture, though, of any kind. All in all, a good movie.

We headed out of the theater to head home and grab the truck for a quick trip to the hardware store. I was thinking that the car was unnaturally short. Kind of funny for me to say that, since I always have a hard time seeing the top of the car. It felt like I had been riding in a big truck.

We took off, to a weird sound and feel. "What's that?"

Flat tire! Kevin backed up and returned to the parking lot so we could change the tire. I hopped out and looked at the driver side front tire, which has a slow leak and needs at least weekly fill.

It was low. But not as low as the driver side BACK tire, which was completely flat. What??? No wonder my side of the car seemed so short.

"Four minutes," said Kevin, racing to the trunk for the donut tire. (Ha, ha, ode to A Christmas Story).

I retraced our steps, looking for nails, tools, large knives...Nothing. There is definitely a hole, a rather large, jagged edged hole, which was not there BEFORE the movie. We were parked in an easy access outside edge slot...Did not see anyone else with a flat tire. Suspicious. Absolutely suspicious.



Good thing it started snowing, since Kevin had to change the tires anyway. Now the snow tires are on (not really needed for our little dusting, but at least they don't have holes).

Thank you, if it was in fact a purposeful endeavor to stab our tire. We needed to replace that tire anyway. If it was normal wear and tear and nail in the road somewhere on the freeway, my apologies.

C'mon and snow, baby. We're ready.