Intrepid

It really is the little things, isn't it, that make a life?  No one reminds me more of that than the children I have been blessed to have in my life.
cutting
 
My own little man teaches me everyday about the small and subtle.  The excitement that charges through his entire body when he hears an airplane or a helicopter in the distance. The complete reverence with which he views taxi drivers. 
 
This weekend saw us stop in a small craft shop to collect a new pair of children's scissors to replace ones that had gone missing weeks previously.  All other items in the shop were forgotten the moment Ellis saw his plastic beauties.
 
Insisting that we go home immediately to do cutting, Ellis has hardly put his scissors down since he got them.  We have been cutting paper, card, playdough, leaves ("weebs"), staws, eggs, bread, and made various attempts at the cat's ears and fur.  Oh and of course, he has been sleeping with them.

 
We probably should have seen it coming.  Since getting a hair cut a few weeks ago, no one can mention the term without Ellis launching into a full blown story about how he got his hair cut with his Dada at the barber shop.  How he sat on his own and got a lollypop from the hairdresser when he was done.  We can't even walk towards the barber's without requests for a further haircut.
 
I thought the fascination was about the hair and the lollypop, but it looks like it was all about teh scissors.
 

You see they aren't just scissors.  They are red.  They occassionally double as an airplane flying in the sky.  They came in a pack of three so both his father and I can "do cutting" when the mood strikes. They are the first thing he asks for in the morning.  All for 99p. Bargain.

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