It was a typical Saturday morning when the unthinkable happened. Dad, fueled by a combination of too much coffee and a desire to prove a point, decided to mow the lawn with a pair of scissors.
The neighbors were shocked as they watched from their living room window, unsure whether to intervene or simply enjoy the spectacle.
Dad, undeterred, hacked away at the blades of grass with a pair of dull, flimsy scissors, leaving behind a trail of torn and tattered grass in his wake.
The backyard, once a lush oasis, was now a barren wasteland, with Dad standing proudly in the center, his scissors held high like a trophy.
As the sun began to set, the neighbors retreated back into their homes, whispering to each other about the dangers of unchecked ambition and a bad haircut.