- Joined
- Jan 13, 2001
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- 10,970
The other day my wife and I were watching television while my daughter was in the dining room doodling on one of her workbooks. As my wife sat engrossed watching some home improvement show (I sat next to her with glazed eyes trying my best not to fall asleep), my daughter came rushing up. "Daddy, I need your knife" she said as she grabbed my Charlow off the coffee table. I was immediately shocked out of my HGTV-induced stupor. Normally I don't mind if my daughter plays around with my slipjoints. Her three-year-old fingers, along with the strong-springed knives, make for an impossible to open, and hence relatively safe combination.
The Charlow was the exception to the rule though. Its broad clip blade and fairly mild spring make it easily pinchable. My daughter picked the one slipjoint in the house that she had a likely chance of opening. Given that this knife had a freshly sharpened edge I thought it best that I come along. I followed as she trooped back to the dining room, a look of determination on her face. After clambering back onto her chair, she picked up the Charlow off the dining table as if to open it. I stopped her just in time.
"Here, let me help you."
"Okay."
"What do you need a knife for?"
"I'm going to use it to cut the paper."
Apparently she had just completed coloring a page that she was especially proud of and wanted to save for posterity. Having learned that savages tear and civilized people develop and use tools, she didn't want to just rip out her masterpiece from its backing. This was a delicate operation, and she wanted precise cuts that were worthy of her efforts.
Saying that I was a happy papa is an understatement. If my wife had been there I'm pretty sure she would've wondered about the million-watt smile on my face. I then took a few seconds to repeat to my daughter that a knife is a tool, and that care must always be taken in its use. After she watched me open the Charlow, I placed it back into her hand. I positioned her off hand on the workbook carefully out of the way, and with slow, deliberate effort drew the clip point blade across the top of the sheet so we could claim her prize. She then took it back to the living room to triumphantly share with her mommy.
During all this time I was happier than a camel on hump day. To my daughter though, it was much ado about nothing. There was no reason for the hullabaloo on my part; the knife was something she needed, nothing more, nothing less. She used it for a task, and when she was done she moved on to the next thing. I guess that partly explains why I'm so proud. In a time when it seems that knives and their use is demonized, my little girl sees them for the tools that they are.
It looks like I'm going to have to start teaching her about proper knife use sooner rather than later though. Speaking of which, at what age did your kids get their first knives? And how sharp were they? I know the old saw that a sharp knife is a safe knife, but I don't know if that applies to children and edges that can cut a free hanging hair.
- Christian
The Charlow was the exception to the rule though. Its broad clip blade and fairly mild spring make it easily pinchable. My daughter picked the one slipjoint in the house that she had a likely chance of opening. Given that this knife had a freshly sharpened edge I thought it best that I come along. I followed as she trooped back to the dining room, a look of determination on her face. After clambering back onto her chair, she picked up the Charlow off the dining table as if to open it. I stopped her just in time.
"Here, let me help you."
"Okay."
"What do you need a knife for?"
"I'm going to use it to cut the paper."
Apparently she had just completed coloring a page that she was especially proud of and wanted to save for posterity. Having learned that savages tear and civilized people develop and use tools, she didn't want to just rip out her masterpiece from its backing. This was a delicate operation, and she wanted precise cuts that were worthy of her efforts.
Saying that I was a happy papa is an understatement. If my wife had been there I'm pretty sure she would've wondered about the million-watt smile on my face. I then took a few seconds to repeat to my daughter that a knife is a tool, and that care must always be taken in its use. After she watched me open the Charlow, I placed it back into her hand. I positioned her off hand on the workbook carefully out of the way, and with slow, deliberate effort drew the clip point blade across the top of the sheet so we could claim her prize. She then took it back to the living room to triumphantly share with her mommy.
During all this time I was happier than a camel on hump day. To my daughter though, it was much ado about nothing. There was no reason for the hullabaloo on my part; the knife was something she needed, nothing more, nothing less. She used it for a task, and when she was done she moved on to the next thing. I guess that partly explains why I'm so proud. In a time when it seems that knives and their use is demonized, my little girl sees them for the tools that they are.
It looks like I'm going to have to start teaching her about proper knife use sooner rather than later though. Speaking of which, at what age did your kids get their first knives? And how sharp were they? I know the old saw that a sharp knife is a safe knife, but I don't know if that applies to children and edges that can cut a free hanging hair.
- Christian
