When I got home for lunch, she solemnly (THERE's a word that deserves it's very own spelling bee - goodness)
Anyway, she solemnly (that would make my English students just keel right over and die - actually they have this great gesture where they pretend to stab themselves on the stomach with a sword...I know, not too new, but then they drag the imaginary knife in a sort of catholic blessing cross fashion, so you stab it into your solar plexus, slice down hard, come up towards the left - your heart pretty much, than then slice horizontally across to the right. Just like if you were to cross yourself, samuri style. It is quite graphic)
Anyway, she solemnly - (you just KNOW this word is going to show up in a class I teach tomorrow, just to see if I can get any of them to use this gesture!)
Then she told me that she had used them to take the toast out of the toaster. Can I just say what you know I am going to say? She didn't unplug it, OK? I kissed her after she told me this. She didn't smell singed at all. I was glad.
We had a wee conversation about elecTRICity and what it can do to smallish much-loved people if they stick a pair of metal scissors into a 220V toaster without unplugging it.
We are all glad. Not solemn. Glad.