The Good Scissors

So we had teacher conferences in the pre-school the other day. That probably sounds serious, but it was simply a nice chat about John. His teacher shared two minor concerns: John doesn't seem to distinguish colors very well, and he hasn't mastered the use of children's scissors.

I have wondered if John is partially color-blind. Time will tell. Not shocking -- it runs all through my family.

About the scissors...

It would seem that John's lack of dexterity lies strictly in the realm of children's scissors. Hand him my razor sharp Fiskars and there's no job too big for the nimbled-fingered John. I have no fewer than three data points (still coming down from the science fair) to support my hypothesis:

1. As I was finishing up a phone call, I saw John dashing out of the room with the good scissors. I followed him into my bedroom where I spotted him hiding under a blanket.

Note to John: If you want to be truly incognito, act naturally. The whole "blanket-over-the-head-behind-the-chair"? Not working so great for you, bud. Might as well post it on Facebook. Maybe it's time to adjust the m.o.?

There John sat utilizing the good scissors to open a nifty Space Shuttle that I think Dave intended as a future birthday or Christmas present.

2. This morning Ainsley's Mylar balloon got a face-lift courtesy of John and the good scissors. Hacked to pieces, it was.

3. This afternoon John appeared at my side with an unwrapped oatmeal pie -- ambrosia to the Dolin children -- and told me, "I opened it with da scissors by myself."

The boy can cut when he's so inclined.