My grand scheming intended that I complete the baby blocks I’ve been pretending to work on this summer over my vacay. This could’ve easily occurred if not for my scissors paranoia. Before the trip I downloaded the list of acceptable travel items.
My scissors should’ve made it. According to federal documentation scissors with blades less than four inches are OK. My beloved scissors have blades of maybe an inch. I was ready to go and conquer the blocks. Then my mom and travel companion saw my scissors. “YOU CAN’T TAKE THOSE!” Yes I can. She freaked. Running into her objections just made me more determined to bring my scissors. I’ll just leave them if they give me trouble, I thought.
Then I really thought. My beloved scissors. My perfect snipping partners. Whatever would I do without you? I don’t even know how to get a new pair. Dejectedly I gave up. While my scissors were legal, nobody believes the law in the airport line. I could not risk scissors seizure.
Since then, I’ve learned my lesson and bought a thread snippy contraption. I’m ready now! While this thingy is probably worth more than my scissors, at least it’s easily replaceable. Now I just need another vacation.
Meanwhile my travel pack of Mary Kay face vitamins, a liquid/gel/lotion, that I didn’t even know I had made it through security and multiple borders.