Important Work

Just so we're clear, this is a photograph of a scissors thief.

I know it is a photograph of a scissors thief because late last week, I went rummaging through Mila's art stash. She has a little craft table in the corner of the family room which has been piled high with projects and papers and glitter for months.

MONTHS.

The literal glitter is why it went on so long. If I left the pile undisturbed, I didn't have to cause a glitter breakout. To make eye contact with glitter is to command it to multiply and spread for miles, but if you pretend you don't know it's there, it's stays compact and neat.

Alas, it was time.

And so I grabbed a garbage bag, elbow-length gloves, and a HAZMAT suit then left all of my empathy and care at the door before taking the entire pile of stuff and throwing it away. Did I throw away a perfectly good coloring book or ten? Yes, I did. They all had a page or two colored in them so they couldn't really be gifted, but clearly Mila doesn't care about them since she hasn't touched them in months. So, buh-bye. All of it.

Except the scissors.

Do you want to guess how many pairs of scissors there were hidden in the depths of that disaster? EIGHT. EIGHT PAIRS OF SCISSORS.

I didn't know I owned eight pairs of scissors. At some point, I must have run out of findable scissors and bought more, never realizing that the thief was stockpiling them in the corner. My sewing scissors, the craft scissors, the haircutting scissors, and all of the junk drawer scissors your heart could want. They were united together while hiding between pieces of construction paper and coloring books.

When I told Mila about what I had found, she suddenly became a woman of few words.

"Mila, I found eight pairs of scissors piled on your table. Care to explain?" I said.

"They have important work to do," she replied before running off.

WHAT IMPORTANT WORK? Should I put them back?