Remember when we were younger and our mothers would say, “Don’t use my good scissors,”? Well, I finally get it. I think it’s safe to say we have roughly five pair of scissors in this house – two devoted to material cutting. Yet, when Hannah decided to make herself a new fleece blanket the other day, what does she use? That’s right. She got out my kitchen shears – the pair you can use to debone a chicken or skin a deer (okay – I could be exaggerating, here). Hoping I’d caught her in time (and saved the shears), I offered her a pair of the material-cutting scissors. Next thing I knew, she’d gone back to using my “best” scissors. Turns out, she’d used the material cutters on some plastic packages, rendering them too dull to cut butter. I couldn’t believe I was coming unglued over a pair of scissors. And for perhaps the first time in my adult life, I was fully and painfully aware of why Mom always got so bent out of shape over something so seemingly insignificant. But Mom was right.
Oh, Liz, over the years we have had the same problem at our house, but I finally decided this was not a battle I was ever going to win. Long ago I gave up the notion of being able to have different scissors for different uses. I used to have fabric scissors, kitchen sheers, little tiny pointy tipped ones, ones with rounded tips, and of course, regular ordinary scissors. On a really good day, I’m happy to just be able to find ANY pair of scissors. On a bad day, I’ve been known to open packages with knives, cut strings with nail clippers and cut paper by using the old fold, lick, fold the other direction and tear method.
I’ll tell you something else she was right about – the need to use facial moisturizers before you notice the need for facial moisturizers. I can’t help but wonder how many fine lines and wrinkles would still be held at bay, had I listened to her in my late teens and early 20s (or early 30s, for that matter).
I hear you. I’m certain I’d have fewer wrinkles had I only listened. Of my own five girls (aged 26 – 14), three of them moisturize daily, probably in hopes of showing the other two up in a decade or two. So, did your mother ever tell you to fold your socks into pairs before they got tossed in the dirty clothes hamper? Wow, that seemed really like a hard, unnecessary and ridiculous thing to do back then. Now I realize it was an attempt to NOT lose socks, not just a way to torture me. We have huge lost sock issues in this house, so much so that I look forward to flip flop weather just so I don’t have to find pairs of socks.
Oh, the dreaded lost sock conundrum! While I don’t remember folding them into pairs before tossing into the hamper, I have vivid recollections of disappearing socks. While I’ve never actually seen the sock gremlin, I can assure you that the sock gremlin exists. Personally I think he comes pre-packaged in every washer and dryer that’s ever been on the market. My personal belief is that he originates in the washer, and looks sort of like one of those little square magic washcloths that you add water to. Looks like a hard square, expands into a soft towel with a little water – you know what I’m talking about. Anywho, after he’s brought to life with that first load, he attaches himself on the clothes as they’re tossed in the dryer, thus moving to his permanent home. From there, he carefully selects just the right sock to devour. and if you think he doesn’t know what you’re favorite socks are, you’re wrong. Think about it – how many times do you sort through freshly laundered socks and say, “Darn, I’m missing the match to my least favorite pair of socks.” It just doesn’t happen. Come to think of it, maybe the wrinkles are caused by the loss of a favorite sock, or a pair of scissors rendered useless by my darlin’ little crumb-crunchers. Maybe it’s not the moisturizer that prevents them, but the stress that inflicts them. But what do I know…