When I returned from taking a daughter to Mayo Clinic for a week, my second best scissors were missing. The culprits, my husband and young son, were probably playing dumb. The missing scisssors were found in the tackle box in a briny solution that had spilled. Needless to say, the scissors were given to the tackle box and a wonderful new pair was purchased with my husband's spending money, not household money.
My best scissors were with me so they were safe.