Calder was on a fastidious streak, pushing in all the drawers, aligning clothes pegs, asking for shirt tags and loose threads to be cut off, even waiting for fans to stop spinning before moving on. The other day, he was keeping the laundry when I saw him bring a pair of shorts into the kitchen. "Where are you going, Calder?" He reached for the kitchen scissors. "Oh, you are cutting off loose thread?" I was impressed that he could do it himself instead of asking for my help. He kept snipping which made me curious, so I stepped into the kitchen. And saw what he cut off - the drawstrings from Daddy's jogging shorts.