James: "Where are all the scissors?"
Me: "In the pile of magazine stuff on the floor."
James: "Seriously? On the floor? Why do we even bother making the house baby-proof? Why do we have toilet locks...."
Me: "I don't even think we need those things anymore."
I was in the middle of reading about the Jon and Kate plus Eight scandal, so I wasn't really paying attention, but I'm pretty sure the rest went something like this: "Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, irresponsible, blah, blah, blah..."
And then I hear Ella humming the "Brusha Brusha Brusha" song that we sing sometimes when the kids brush their teeth. I glance up from my laptop to see her smiling and pretend-brushing her front teeth with a closed pair of pink kid scissors. Smiling. And Brushing. Peyton (because he's a fan of lax parenting) and I looked at each other and busted out laughing. Well played, Ella. Well played.
For the record, I know she NEVER would have touched the grown-up scissors. She knows better. But I'm pretty sure she just chose sides and picked her favorite parent. And it's not the one who leaves sharp objects laying around all willy-nilly.