I was about three years old when I first learned how to use scissors. After trying them on paper, I wanted to cut something else with my scissors. Something like hair so that I could pretend to be a hairdresser. It was before I had any human-shaped dolls, and all I had were stuffed animals.
I picked one dog plush from my toy box. His brown nose was very fluffy.
“Your nose is fluffy,” I spoke softly to my dog plush. “I can make it better for you.”
I took my scissors and dog plush to the far end of the storage room of our tiny apartment. That was usually where I did my most secret stuff.
Seating myself in front of the window, I started cutting what I thought was an excessive bit of my dog’s nose. I planned to cut only a little, but my poor hand control made an uneven cut. In my attempt to fix it, I ended up cutting a great portion. By the time the trimming session was over, my dog’s brown nose was made bare. No fluff anymore.
Satisfied with my work, I brought the dog plush back to my toybox.