I have have always carried a pocket knife, everywhere! It’s like the American Express card commercial – I never leave home without it.
I’ve carried a pocket knife with me ever since I was a kid. My granddaddy gave me my first one when I was about 6-7 years old, it was a 3 bladed K-bar.
Dad would check my pocket knife every now and then to see if it was sharp. He use to say a dull knife is more dangerous than a sharp one. He also use to say, a dull knife is a sign of a lazy boy.
So, I always kept mine razor sharp.
You weren’t supposed to have them in school but dad said keep it in your pocket and they won’t know you have it, but it’ll be there if you need it.
I had a chemistry teacher in high school who use to ask me for it all the time. I wondered how he knew I had one and he said “you’re a farm kid, they all carry them.” Didn’t take him long to figure out it was razor sharp either!
I’ve always loved watermelons and during the summer I always had one or two in the back of my pickup. When the hankering came over me when it was hot I’d flop down the tailgate, dig out my knife and satisfy my craving.
Now, my wife will not consume anything cut with my pocket knife, I mean nothing!
If she catches me eating something I cut, she naturally assumes it was cut with my pocket knife. I guess she has seen me cut the seals of chemical jugs, drain abscesses, trim and clean fingernails and open seed sacks with it, even though I’ve wiped it off or washed it… well the thought just makes her squeamish, and she has to pass.
Well, one time I had me a watermelon I was saving to take home to the wife and kids, I was at the farm parked on the ditch end changing water when Bobo showed up.
He didn’t offer to help or nothing, he just lounged around against the side of my pickup a
yakking about a whole lotta nothing. Then he started looking around the back of my pickup and seen that watermelon.
When I was finally finished with setting my water and got back to the pickup he said “that watermelon sure looks good, how bout we cut it and give it a go?” But I was really wanting to take it home to my wife and kids and I said as much, but he was as persistent as a housefly. He said “awe, you can always go find you anothern on your way home”.
But when I’m ready to go home I’m usually give out and I’m ready to go home!
I loathed the thought of having to go find another watermelon, but we were brought up with Bible upbringing and the good book says in Matthew 5:42 “Give to him that asketh thee, and from him that would borrow of thee turn not thou away.”
So, I rolled that watermelon to the tailgate and dug out my trusty pocket knife, opened her up, and was about to stab that melon when ole Bobo interrupted me and said, “where’s that knife been?”
Now, I was having me a good day, and being quick to whit, I sensed ole Bobo might be a little squeamish.
So, I told him a windy and I said “I cut the seals on some treflan jugs, no wait… I remember now, I dug out an ingrowed toenail with it, but I rinsed it off in the ditch.”
I proceeded to fabricate some juicy details about my big toe and how sore and festered it was and what not. I even offered to take my boot off and show him. When all of a sudden for some reason ole Bobo decided he didn’t want any watermelon after all and needed to take care of something at the house and he promptly left.
I hope the good Lord don’t hold it against me, but my wife and kids really enjoyed that watermelon when I got home. Cut with a kitchen knife of course.
