Scissors

There have been times throughout my life when I have listened to people lament the loss of a sock.  "It's like the washing machine eats them for fun", they say.  I am thinking that you may have had a similar experience or have heard others talk about coming up one short of a pair.  Here's the thing... I don't really have a problem with missing socks.  I don't recall ever having such a problem.  My issue is scissors.  

Scissors have always been an issue for me.  I will give you a for instance....  In 2001 I moved into a new home.  I distinctly remember counting my scissors as I found them while packing to move.  I was astounded to find that I had sixteen pairs including a pair of pinking shears that are more than a little difficult, if not impossible, to operate.  Of those sixteen pairs, the only one I am able to locate at this moment in time are those cantankerous pinking shears. I have no idea where the rest of them are.  

Have no fear, however... There are now several other pairs floating around  -- at least 12 that I know of -- all purchased in the past 14 years.  I counted four dirty and well used pairs of various sizes and colors while I was working in the garage just the other day. I distinctly remember using my favorite pair to open a tough bag of rock salt last winter. They have never been the same since -- thus their placement on the shelf in the garage. There are also texturizing scissors in my bathroom, a pair of tiny thread cutting scissors in a drawer someplace, and at least four pairs of nice scissors that I have ruined by cutting things like twine, cardboard boxes, mailing paper and packaging tape.  They look nice standing in a mug on the kitchen counter, but good luck getting them to cut a hanging thread or to open a plastic bag of mini pepperoni. (Looks aren't everything, as we know.) It's a dilemma, one that I have created.  

So -- once again decent scissors are on my shopping list -- all the while I am promising that I will save this pair to use while cutting fabric or when mending. I am not kidding myself though -- I know that will not happen.  I know that in the pressure of the moment, I will grab the scissors now and regret later. It's shameful.  At least I eventually relegate the dull ones for use in the gardens and garage if I don't misplace them first.  Where do they all go?  Does anyone else out there have this issue? Do I have to move again to find those other sixteen pairs? Would I want them if I did find them?  I just don't know.  Am I alone in all of this?  Are all of you missing sock people?