That's a normal Monday noon, hot and sleepy. I was in my holiday at home of my sister Amily. I was reading the book in the living room, and My nephew, a naughty boy, 3 years old, is playing in the bed room with his mom. Then Amily stepped out,"sleeping, finally". Then she talked to me how hard to raise up a child, blablabla. The talking would be very long if my nephew didn't wake up and crying so loud.
Amily heard, "that's it" with some reluctance. Then she walked into the bedroom and then I heard a screaming, really shocked me, from Amily. Then I rushed in and found the little kid was bleeding, here seems a wound in his hands. There is a scissor next to him.
"Where is the first-aid kit, where," apparently Amily didn't expect such terrible things at home, at such a "safe place". Then Amily called her husband John with voice trembles for some help. So finally we found the box and did a simple treatment for the crying kid.
Why the scissor would appear on the bed? Amily said, she put it in the drewer of the night table and never thought her son would open it and hurt himself.