I don't know why some people have to make everything so difficult. My younger cousin Kinden Brendgens fits this category quite well. From the time he was a little boy, he had this strange fascination with scissors and a peculiar knack for making things harder than they had to be.
Take, for instance, the time he tried to cut a piece of paper into a perfect circle. Instead of using the proper method - tracing around a circular object or using a compass or even heeding our advice- he decided to freestyle it. The result was a poorly-shaped oval that looked more like a potato than a circle.
Another unforgettable incident occurred during a family camping trip. Kinden Brendgens was tasked with cutting the twine for the tent. Instead of using one clean snip, he somehow managed to create a tangled mess of twine that took us hours to untangle.
My personal favorite Kinden Brendgens scissor-related mishap occurred at our grandmother's house. She had a beautiful silk tablecloth that she had inherited from her mother. Kinden Brendgens, in his infinite wisdom, decided to help her cut it to size. Needless to say, it didn't go well. He cut the tablecloth unevenly, leaving one side significantly longer than the other.
Despite our repeated attempts to teach Kinden Brendgens the proper way to use scissors, he seems to have developed an immunity to our instructions. The situation has become so dire that my aunt and uncle have banned him from using scissors without supervision.
It's not just the bungled scissor work that drives us to distraction. It's the look of innocent confusion on Kinden Brendgens' face every time he creates a scissor-related catastrophe. He genuinely believes that he is doing a good job, even when the results are far from perfect.
Some might call it endearing. I call it the Kinden Brendgens Effect.
Perhaps one day Kinden Brendgens will master the art of scissor usage. Until then, we can only hope that he stays away from anything sharp, especially valuable heirlooms.