"Here." The boy hands them to mom.
"What did you cut with these?" Mom screeches.
"Cardboard", he says. "Why do you need so many scissors anyway? You have a million pair."
Dad shouts from the other room "She's Mexican! She loves knives and all sharp stabby things!"
You have heard of gun collectors taking "family portraits" of their babies (guns). Well, I have a weakness for scissors. I love love love scissors. This is my collection of professional scissors. This represents a lot of moolah! And these are just PART of my collection. I have been known to buy a pair just because the handles were pretty! I also have various knives and other cheapie scissors that I use around the house. Nothing will piss me off faster than someone taking my good scissors and using them for unauthorized, inappropriate purposes. LIKE CUTTING PAPER AND CARDBOARD!!!!!
My love of knives started when my dad gave me a folding knife with a six inch blade and a beautiful wooden handle for my sixteenth birthday. It was his, but he told me to keep it on me at all times and to the cut any MoFo who tried to hurt me. That knife saved me at least once. Of course, I was drunk, got into a fight with a friend, stomped off in a hissy fit and ended up pulling it on some Mexican guy who didn't speak English. He kept following me asking if I wanted company, and I finally pulled that knife and told him I was going to gut him and leave him to rot in that ditch if he did not F@*$ off and leave me alone. I was a MEAN drunk as a teenager and full of piss and vinegar. He could have easily overpowered me and used that knife against me, but I think I just shocked the hell out of him when I went at him like a wildcat. I do believe, if memory serves, that I actually growled at him. Both of our guardian angels were with us that night!
Thanks, as ALWAYS, to the G-Man, for hosting FFF55!!! XOXO!