My 8-year-old granddaughter and I were having one of our art sessions. She needed a pair of scissors but the only ones around were a filigree-handled heirloom.
I passed her the beautiful scissors and asked her to take good care of them because they meant a lot to me. “Are they old?” she asked. Excited that she seemed interested in their history, I explained that they belonged to my mother and my mother’s mother.
“Well, that explains it,” she said. “Explains what?” I asked. “Why they don’t work.”