IMG_3657Serena seems to have about doubled her vocabulary in the past week, dropping out new words every time we talk to each other. “Bubbles”, “Cookie”, “Go”, “Cake”.

By far the best of the set has been “Scissors.” Serena picked this one up from her sister, who loves scissors as she loves all things crafty and destructive. Scissors have a special allure because they have to be doled out by an adult, following an unfortunate Scissors Incident involving the window blinds.

The scissors live in a small wooden box on the very top of a tall bookcase. Even I cannot reach them. Rio asks for them, I climb up on a stool and get a pair down, and she can have them until she’s done using them at the table, and they go away.

There are Serena-approved scissors in the box, which are not really scissors at all but just a plastic toy made to look like scissors. (Or are those scissors? Is it a pair of scissors if it looks like one, or only if it can cut? I digress.)

Now that she has the Power of the Word, Serena comes up to me all the time to ask for scissors. “Scissors! Scissors! Scissors?”

I love hearing words come from her, and I oblige her as often as I can. I go to the bookcase, get down the box of scissors, and give her the little red plastic ones. She waits with patient excitement every time, and receives the scissors into both little hands as if they were a magic wand.

Then, invariably, she sits amidst the chaos of paper and ribbons and watercolors at our craft table and looks mildly perplexed.

I can practically see the thought bubble above her: “Ok, Mom, I have the scissors. What happens now?”

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