Our mother had a very special pair of scissors called pinking shears. I guess they were for seamstresses who made lots of beautiful dresses for their daughters. This did not happen at “Looney Ville”, our family home. I still am not sure why she even owned a pair since her sewing skills were limited and her ability to follow through to get a project done was non existent.
However, she was very proud of the shears and threatened us within an inch of our lives if we even dared to touch them. I wasn’t sure what was so damn special about a pair of scissors but eventually curiosity got the best of me and I borrowed them from her not so secret hiding place. I took them out of the box and began cutting some odds and ends I had. I cut paper and said to myself, “Oh! Beautiful!” and then I went on to cut a bit of my very own hair. I ran to the bathroom to see how lovely my hair looked and was shocked to see the damage that pinking shears can do in quick order to change your hairstyle. I knew then Mother would know I had used her precious pinking shears and I should prepare for my untimely death.
I tried to comb my hair about one zillion different ways so she would not notice that I had chopped a big hunk of it out in a rather unusual design. Now Mother being Mother, she never noticed my hair. But the next time she went looking for her pinking shears, all hell broke loose.
Unfortunately, they were dull as an old rusty saw and when she tried to use them, they barely cut. The raging lasted long into the night and ended when she finally ran out of steam, pills, and alcohol. The next day, she began saying:
I can never have anything nice! As long as Lindy is around, she will take anything nice I own and try to ruin it!
I don’t know why people can’t leave my personal belongings alone. What have I done to her to deserve this?
I never have figured out the fascination with pinking shears. You couldn’t cut straight with them and although the pattern was unique, it wasn’t very practical.
I have never owned a pair of precious pinking shears and I doubt I ever will. After all, if mother was correct, I never did know how to take care of anything!