Cuttin' Up

Growing up - for the longest time - my mother cut my meat. I think she secretly liked it. She would be in the kitchen fixing the plates and really cut meat before it even hit the table. Mom really never gave us a chance, but that's besides the point. She had a running joke, and like all her jokes, she repeated it often. She would say, "I'm going to have to go on all her dates to cut her meat." Hardy, har, har.

So yesterday I am getting dinner ready and Cole says, "Mom, I want you to show me how to cut." I am thinking that he's so far ahead of the game! I agree and start to get a knife and fork out. Then he tells me "no, with scissors and paper". Oh. I guess one step at a time.

I drew a straight line, curvy line, and zig zag on a sheet of paper, and he cut them all perfectly! And then shredded the paper into a million little pieces. Fun.