When my friend delivered her baby, her grandma sent her a gift: an old, slightly worn set of scissors. But not just any ordinary one; it had four finger holes and the word “LEFTY” inscribed on the blade. We stared at it for a long time, attempting to decipher its function.
“Is this something medical?” I inquired, turning it in my hands. “Or maybe it’s for sewing with the left hand?” We came up with various possibilities, but none of them appeared to fit.
