Scissors

I Don’t Know Who Needs to Hear This – Part 2

So, it was 6.30pm Friday evening and I was literally writing this post in my mind. My scissors (mentally, I pronounce them with a Q after the S and before the U). My scissors that live in a vase with cutlery on my kitchen bench have gone missing.

Did they go walking with:
A) 7.15am The Askol Delivery guys?
B) My Carer.
C) My handyman guy
D) My friend that came to collect the old washing machine at about 5pm who will give it to someone he knows through all the charities he deals with? Or
E) As I mentally write this sitting at the dining table, I see something black sticking out from some paperwork on the dining table only to discover the scissors.

Sometimes, there’s a really good reason we did not buy another pair of scissors today while shopping although a spare pair of scissors never goes astray.

Also, while people think I cope really well, this is on an average day of late. It could also explain why this day having made three trips to my car parking space in the garage on foot mostly without my AFO or walking stick (my aid’s) I have a very lazy left leg.