Almost two decades ago while living in Europe my ex husband and I invited my father and his date, a redheaded anesthesiologist from Texas, over to our house for dinner. I had just finished baking a roast in our finicky oven (I cannot recall whether it was gas or electric but it had issues) and as soon as we sat down my husband began carving the meat.
My father’s face turned a funny color, perhaps a shade similar to his date’s hair, and he asked my husband if he could see the knife. My ex passed it to me and I passed it to the redhead who in turn passed it to my father.
Twisting and turning the nondescript knife in the light which emanated from the chandelier, my father frowned. How did you come to get this? he asked.
I was busted. “I borrowed a few things before I moved into this house,” I said quickly.
“No, no,” he said, shaking his head. “Your mother stabbed me with this knife.”








October 11, 2009 at 5:00 am |
Funny how you never forget a sharp object that has taken a piece out of you.
October 11, 2009 at 1:48 pm |
And not just literally.
October 11, 2009 at 10:29 am |
Sweet!
October 11, 2009 at 1:52 pm |
I don’t which is more horrifying – the knife resurfacing at dinner or that we used it to carve the meat.
October 11, 2009 at 9:20 pm |
The only object I ever remember my mother using to connect with my father (other than her voice) was a spiral notebook. Damn good thing they are much less durable.
October 11, 2009 at 10:20 pm |
Damn good thing we are grown up. They would have killed us by now. No, wait—we would have killed them.
October 12, 2009 at 9:30 am |
priceless.
October 12, 2009 at 3:17 pm |
Damn if your meal-time conversations aren’t infinitely more interesting than mine!
October 13, 2009 at 1:13 am |
Et tu, Brute? That about sums it up.
October 14, 2009 at 3:12 am |
Wow…That’s opera.