Nipper : young surf lifesaver

See here: I recently tightened my braces (last fri, but it's probably back to square One after all those unintentional broken wires*). It's green now- mom says it makes it look like I have vegetable stuck between my teeth. Permanently. But i swear, it's definitely at least 5 shades lighter than say, broccoli. Labs however, says it compliments the Uniform. Go figure.
Anyway, the orthodentist didn't cut the end of my upper right side's wire off properly, so it kinda sticks right out, scraping the insides of my cheek (think of all the precious 'Animal cells' wasted- I can't believe that's what we're called in Biology: animals). Quite painful if you thought about it. LS suggested sticking a cotton wad into my mouth- it worked, for maybe a full five minutes- by then it was as soggy as, well, two soggy things ;-)
So of course, the logical thing to do was to cut it. But as it was the weekend, the dental centre was closed- and anyway it was a hundred kilos away from my house. Therefore, my mother decided to take things into her own hands- literally.

First attempt
A pair of small scissors. I'm not sure what it's used for usually, exactly. But its location in the drawer where we keep the nail clippers proves suspicious. I try not to think about it too much.
Result: Failed
Second attempt
A pair of larger scissors. I could practically felt my mom's hand shaking with the effort to cut it. What the hell was this wire made of anyway, titanium?
Result: Failed
Third attempt
And fortunately, the final one. A pair of proper wire cutters(or cutter?).
Result: Sweet Success!

She v. nearly tried the godforsaken nail clippers, before I declined it with a firm hand. I think she got her genes from my grandma- a while back, she used a pair of workmens' tweezers to extract a tooth from my little primary one cousin. The boy wasn't scared in the least bit, the brave thing. I probably would've been scarred. For life.
Anyway, that's the crazy story. Coming up next, lyrics from our favourite show, The Nanny!


The Nanny Named Fran
Composed and Performed by Ann Hampton Callaway:
She was working in a bridal shop in Flushing, Queens,
'Til her boyfriend kicked her out in one of those crushing scenes.
What was she to do? Where was she to go? She was out on her fanny...
So over the bridge from Flushing to the Sheffield's door.
She was there to sell make-up, but father saw more.
She had style! She had flair! She was there.
That's how she became the Nanny!
Who would have guessed that the girl we've described,
Was just exactly what the doctor prescribed?
Now the father finds her beguiling (watch out C.C.!).
And the kids are actually smiling (such joie de vivre!)
She's the lady in red when everybody else is wearing tan...
The flashy girl from Flushing, the Nanny named Fran!

-The (fortunately, sane) Mother

*So I love popcorn. Sue me.