But my favorite thing in the world is my knife. Not an expensive knife. It is hand made by someone who used an old piece of hacksaw blade. I picked it up at a garage sale for ten cents. It is sharp, it is always hand washed, honed and rubbed with a lightly oiled rag before going in it's own special place in the drawer.
Yesterday I could not find it. My mother was coming to dinner and my knife was no where to be found.
I was frantic. I was baking, whisking and kneading but all the time my brain was going "where is my knife?" Finally lined up the family, had they seen my knife?
What Knife?
MY knife. My little wooden handled knife that sat in it spot, (Drawer was opened) RIGHT HERE. Where was my knife?
My Dear Husband, My Sweet heart, love of my life and father to my children.... "I used it down stairs to cut a piece of rubber hose. It is probably still down there...."
Everything else was put on hold until knife was found, washed, honed and I was once again chopping, slicing dicing and making radish roses.
The Word has now been issued, do not touch my knife.
Great story! Who doesn’t have a favorite knife?!