Tell Me You Remember This
March 30, 2025
Source: imgur
I hadn’t thought about preschool training scissors in years—decades, really—until I stumbled across a photo of them online the other day. You know the ones. Short stubby metal blades, chunky green or red plastic handles, and four finger holes. Four. Like they were made for some strange alien with extra digits.
But the moment I saw them, boom—instant time warp. Back to sitting at a tiny table with a rounded glue stick in one hand and those clunky scissors in the other, trying my best to cut out a wobbly paper heart that always ended up looking like a potato. Those were my preschool training scissors memories. Good times.
The Mystery of the Extra Holes
Let’s talk about those holes for a sec. If you ever tried using preschool training scissors solo, you know it felt wrong. Uncomfortable. Like you were holding them upside-down no matter how you turned them. That’s because they weren’t really made for kids to use alone.
The design had a purpose: co-scissoring. One set of holes for the kid, the other for the grown-up. A teacher or parent would slip their fingers into the extra loops and help guide your hand. It was like scissors with training wheels. You thought you were doing it all by yourself, but nah—Mom or Mrs. Miller was low-key steering that snip the whole time.
Honestly, I kinda miss that little bit of sneaky teamwork.
Safety First, Function… Maybe Later
Look, these things were not made for precision. Or comfort. Or, some days, actual cutting. They were dull. Not in the “ugh, boring” way—well, maybe that too—but literally dull. The blades could barely get through regular paper, let alone the thick stuff. You ever try cutting felt with these preschool training scissors? Forget it.
But hey, that was the point. Safety was everything. The ends were rounded, the blades had no real edge, and the struggle was real. You had to work to get that paper cut in half. But you also weren’t going to slice your finger open in the process. (Not that we didn’t try. Kids are crafty.)
Lefty? Good Luck
I had a friend in preschool—Sarah—who was left-handed. And she hated scissors day. The standard ones didn’t work for her, and back then, left-handed versions were like unicorns. If you got lucky, you found a pair with ‘LEFTY’ stamped on the blade. If not, you had to contort your wrist at weird angles and hope for the best. But no one ever made lefty versions of preschool training scissors.
Sarah got so frustrated once she just ripped her paper in half and called it art. Honestly, same.
Why These Scissors Still Live Rent-Free in My Head
So why are these awkward little tools still such a core memory? Could it be because of the preschool training scissors and their unique charm?
Because they were more than scissors. They were part of the learning process. Not just cutting paper—but learning how to learn. How to hold a tool, how to be patient, how to keep trying even when your snowflake looked more like a spaghetti monster.
And also? They were a weird little bonding moment. When a teacher leaned in to help you snip along the line. When your mom guided your hand and told you “almost there!” while you worked on a Valentine’s Day craft. It was simple stuff, but it meant something.
From Snips to Skills
These days, scissors for kids look like something out of a sci-fi movie. Ergonomic grips, spring-back handles, color-coded safety guards. All great. Super useful. But there’s something charming about the old-school clunkiness of preschool training scissors.
They didn’t make things easy—but they did make things memorable, much more than any other preschool training scissors.
And if you ever find a pair stuffed in a drawer at your parents’ house, or spot one at a garage sale? Pick it up. Give it a little test snip. Feel the resistance. Smile at how awful it still is.
And remember: this is how we learned. One awkward, crooked, kind-of-dangerous snip at a time.