A not uncommon sight in our home is me, stalking about the place muttering "Where are my scissors? Somebody has kidnapped my scissors!" They are supposed to repose in jar on top of my desk, but somehow never seem to find there way back there after they have been used to create some marvel of "bricolage" by one of the children. Hence, I spend a lot of my time wandering around like a demented old lady looking for her lost cat. "Where could they BE?" I demand querulously....
Then yesterday, all became clear. Well , as clear as it could be , given that some of the spelling was kind of creative. I found this RANSOM note laying on my desk.
It informed me that my scissors are in "captiviti"and if I wanted them back safe and sound, I would need to come up with 100,000 euros by midnight...
I suspect Severin is the culprit. He has shifty eyes. Also, there are bits of cut-up newpaper all over his bedroom floor. Take THAT Sherlock Holmes!
4 comments:
Hilarious! I especially love that he left you "prof." What are you going to do? Rip out 10,000 euros in newspaper letters and leave it under the whatever-it-is (couldn't make that part out, sorry)? Try and negotiate? Do tell!
Severin, dude, sweep your tracks! Hide the evidence!
Too bad she didn't fall for it. 100,000 euros would be nice.
The story of my LIFE! I resorted to buying about 10 pairs of scissors, banning the children from so much as touching two of them, and now I can OCCASIONALLY find a pair when I need it. AAARRGggghhhhh. Though I remember my mother doing the same thing..."where did you put my SCISSORS!!!!"
The loot was to be left under the djembé (african drum in our living room).
How did I resolve the situation? Well, I don't do deals with criminals. So,I called in the SWAT team, of course. Alexa and Mal staged a raid and retrieved the scissors for me.
BTW- Last year I bought about 10 pairs of small scissors for the kids and had two large pairs for myself. That makes my cries all the more poignant these days when I can't find a single pair.
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