Watch Your Words ....

Oh dear. Oh dear oh dear oh dear. This is not good.

Today, Beastie got ahold of my sewing scissors and proceeded to chop up a piece of paper. I asked her to give me the scissors back. She did not. I asked again, and again, she refused. Eventually I just took them from her, because, hello, two year old with scissors.

She had a fit. She had the mother of all fits, and threw herself on the floor.

"I need dose scissors!!!" She screamed at the top of her lungs.

"No," I said.

"Give me dose scissors!!" She was screaming so loud, and so upset, that her voice was raspy.

"No, Beastie," I said. "You cannot have Momma's scissors."

"Give. Me. Dose. Scissors!!!"

"No."

"YES!"

"No."

Now she was so mad, I thought she would vomit. Really.

"GIVE ME DOSE FUCKING SCISSORS!!!" she screamed, and I lost it. I just could not help myself. I laughed so hard I had to sit down, because I thought I would fall down.

"I'm not giving you the scissors," I finally said. I left the room, and she immediately stopped crying and apparently forgot the whole thing.

I, on the other hand, will remember this forever.