One of the challenges of my childhood relates to a pair of scissors. That’s right, I said a pair of scissors. A simple pair of scissors. Using them to cut things was far more difficult, complicated, stressful and ultimately impactful than you might think.
Let me explain.
And actually, before I get into it, you need to know it wasn’t just any pair of scissors, it was a specific set of scissors. These scissors had a name. They were the The Good Scissors.
Access to The Good Scissors, or any cutting implement for that matter,was a constant struggle for my sisters and I growing up. You might think it’s a pretty simple thing to use scissors, and I would agree. But I would add, not so much for my family.
It went deeper than that. Much deeper.
And there is a small amount of controversy about The Good Scissors. I remember them as having an orange handle, but my sisters claim the handles were yellow. I’ll defer to their memory, I might be confusing them with a pair that were always around as we raised our crew, which were orange.
Anyway, growing up there were two pairs of scissors in the Bergan home, one pair that worked and one pair that did not work. There was a metal pair of scissors that were worthless because they were so dull they couldn’t cut a thing.
Then there was a second pair, The Good Scissors. The Good Scissors worked great, but had restricted use requirements. Using the good pair required an adult clearance level, so only mom could use The Good Scissors (Dad wasn’t about to use them, he was a Navy Officer, so he was gone most of the time and when he was home, he wasn’t about to use a pair of scissors, that’s for sure).
Simple cutting tasks, like cutting construction paper for school projects, making book covers out of paper bags, or (heaven forbid), opening a package was strictly forbidden with The Good Scissors and was impossible with the other pair. There were steep fines and punishments for their illegal use, and the judge was quite angry and unforgiving.
The Good Scissors were taboo. Verbotten. Off Limits. Outside the bounds. They must not be touched or used in any way.
However you want to describe it, The Good Scissors were not intended for everyday use. Only mom could use them, and she claimed to only use them for specific tasks. Some of us note, however, in hindsight, that mom used them for whatever she needed. Quality Control was a big problem in our house back in the day.
There’s more to the story. The Good Scissors were stored in a secure location, mom’s gray footstool. This is where mom would keep many of her sewing and knitting supplies. The Good Scissors had a home there too.
Except when they didn’t. The Good Scissors had a tendency to wander off and get lost. And one of mom’s common requests for us as her children was to Go and get the Good Scissors (with this special permission we could carry them to mom for her use).
So children frequently were dispatched to find scissors that could not normally be touched and bring them to mom. It was an odd kind of torture to have to find the scissors and carry them to mom, knowing there was gonna be a problem later when that art project needed work. Like I said at the beginning, it was an ongoing struggle in my family growing up.
We laugh about it now that we are adults. I’ll also say it was a different time too. There was no Amazon, scissors were not as mass produced or cheap and it was harder to get a good pair than it is today. Mom was struggling to make it and it was overwhelming to raise 5 kids on a limited budget.
We understand these issues and we look back fondly on these years because although we may have struggled to finish school projects or do simple things like cut paper, mom made our home a place of love and laughter. We love and appreciate mom more than ever for her presence in our lives and we do not blame her for wanting to have some nice things that worked.
We all laugh about The Good Scissors and fetching them for mom, but not using them. The memory of childhood scissors came to me because I woke up yesterday and needed a pair of scissors to cut something.
And as I used them to cut, my mind flashed back to The Good Scissors. I texted my sisters and we had a good laugh as we were reminded how special our mother is to us. I hope this story makes you smile and warms your heart too.
Have a great week,
Ernie