A California Gully mum has issued an eleventh commandment: thou shalt not touch Mum’s good fabric scissors. The sacred shears, rumoured to have been forged by ancient wizards in the fires of responsibility and practicality, are now under lock and key, guarded by a ferocious Pomeranian named Suzie.
The announcement left her youngsters grappling with the existential question: if we can’t use Mum’s good scissors, what’s the point of cutting anything at all?
“I was giving Barbie a haircut, but now I’m stuck with scissors that can barely cut through a marshmallow,” lamented seven-year-old Mel.
“This is like the fourth pair I’ve bought. No one knows where the other ones have gone,” said her mother, Liz.
Parents argue that the move is essential to preserve the sanctity of Mum’s good scissors, which are reserved exclusively for cutting important things like fabric and other stuff that Mum cuts.
Meanwhile, kids are left to question if this is how Jeannie Little got her start.
The struggle is real.
