In my ongoing battle against the Evil Scissors and its army of sharp things, I have suffered a
grievous slight wound!
It has been many years since I last encountered the Scissors directly. These quiet times have lured me into feeling I had successfully controlled the enemy. I was wrong and they attacked me in a moment of inattention!
My first thought, of course, was to insure the safety of the fabric I was working on. Thus, I stuck my finger in my mouth, carefully arranged the last piece of fabric, and headed for the first aid box. I was half way up the stairs when the pain hit me. Fortunately, Sarge was prepared to come to my aid (he said the little whimper alerted him) and had my wound dressed in no time. I could have done without the laughter, though.
I do believe I'm feeling faint. Perhaps I should lie down now.
Evil Scissors = 1, Liz = 0