The man stood in front the dresser, studying the small array of pocket knives in the polished wood tray that lay on the dressers top. He was dressed for an evening out, and the occasion was the 42d wedding anniversary. They had reservations at a swanky high end restaurant, and being the knife knut he was, he was pondering the choice of pocket knife for the evening. After all, he thought, it does make a difference.
"Heavy decision making?" asked his wife, who had come behind him.
The man thought for a moment, and replied, "What knife goes with a formal evening out?" the man said in a half joking tone.
His wife straitened the collar of the Tommy Bahama silk shirt with the gold and green embroidered palm trees that he was wearing. Looking at his tray of knives, she thought about it. The man held up a jackknife with rich dark ebony scales. She shook her head, and said "Too dark. You're already dressed mostly in black."
She stepped around him and looked closely at he pocket knives. The man let her have the lead, long experience telling him that when it came to other than jeans and denim shirts, his sense of style went to heck quick. He watched with a slight smile as his wife of 42 years now, lightly fingered the pocket knives in the tray, and thought how lucky he had been to grab a girl that not only was a good shot, but appreciated a good pocket knife or three. One after another she would pick them up for a moment, reflect, and and replace it in the wooden tray. A stockman, a Swiss Army knife, a horn handle friction folder. Then her hand played over a bone handled small jack. It's serpentine shape giving it a graceful look, and she picked it up out of the tray. Slipping her well manicured thumbnail into the nick, she pulled open the blade, and admired the intricate pattern on the blade. The late afternoon sun played on the raindrop pattern damascus as she moved it in the sunlight.
"I think this one will do. Discrete and elegant at one time. " she said.
The man looked down at the Case peanut she held out to him, gently folded the blade up and slipped it in the pocket of the black dress pants he wore. He stood looking down at his partner of all those years. She looked up at him with a quizzical look.
"What?"
"I'm just wondering how I got a gal that likes guns and knives, and has had the patience to put up with me for all this time."
The woman thought back to a warm night on Padre Island, Texas, so long ago, where a young soldier and a girl had sat on top of a sand dune watching the moon over the Gulf Of Mexico. A proposal had been made and accepted that night, and now a lifetime later they were still partners in crime as she once put it.
"Because you asked." she said.
"But other's asked, and you always said no. Why me, not that I'm complaining you understand." the man said.
His wife gave him one of those enigmatic smiles.
"They were lousy shots." she said. "You don't expect me to marry someone who can't shoot with me? Do you?" she said laughing.
"Yeah, but you've always outshot me when it comes to real targets with scores. Not just a Sprite can sitting on the ground." he pointed out.
The woman turned and picked up one of the knives from the wooden tray on the dresser top. She pulled open the blade of a Sardinian Resolza, and handed it to her husband.
"Let me see it shave."
The man was mystified, but having faith in his partner of over four decades, he lightly stroked it on his arm just below the elbow. A postage stamp size of bit or arm was now smooth as a babies bottom.
"And this means what?" asked the man.
"Well, you don't expect me to marry a man who can't sharpen a knife, do you? Remember that picnic on the bank of the Guadalope River? My daddy's old scout knife that I was carrying was a little dull, and you pulled out that itty bitty stone from your pack and in a few minutes you did just that. You shaved clean a bit of your arm. Well for the next 42 years I've had nice sharp kitchen knives. A girl has to think of things like that." she said laughing.
"And here I thought it was my great personality! Okay, I'm hungry, lets go eat." he said, and held out his arm.
The woman slipped her arm through his, and they left for their dinner reservation.
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The happy couple after 42 years.
"Heavy decision making?" asked his wife, who had come behind him.
The man thought for a moment, and replied, "What knife goes with a formal evening out?" the man said in a half joking tone.
His wife straitened the collar of the Tommy Bahama silk shirt with the gold and green embroidered palm trees that he was wearing. Looking at his tray of knives, she thought about it. The man held up a jackknife with rich dark ebony scales. She shook her head, and said "Too dark. You're already dressed mostly in black."
She stepped around him and looked closely at he pocket knives. The man let her have the lead, long experience telling him that when it came to other than jeans and denim shirts, his sense of style went to heck quick. He watched with a slight smile as his wife of 42 years now, lightly fingered the pocket knives in the tray, and thought how lucky he had been to grab a girl that not only was a good shot, but appreciated a good pocket knife or three. One after another she would pick them up for a moment, reflect, and and replace it in the wooden tray. A stockman, a Swiss Army knife, a horn handle friction folder. Then her hand played over a bone handled small jack. It's serpentine shape giving it a graceful look, and she picked it up out of the tray. Slipping her well manicured thumbnail into the nick, she pulled open the blade, and admired the intricate pattern on the blade. The late afternoon sun played on the raindrop pattern damascus as she moved it in the sunlight.
"I think this one will do. Discrete and elegant at one time. " she said.
The man looked down at the Case peanut she held out to him, gently folded the blade up and slipped it in the pocket of the black dress pants he wore. He stood looking down at his partner of all those years. She looked up at him with a quizzical look.
"What?"
"I'm just wondering how I got a gal that likes guns and knives, and has had the patience to put up with me for all this time."
The woman thought back to a warm night on Padre Island, Texas, so long ago, where a young soldier and a girl had sat on top of a sand dune watching the moon over the Gulf Of Mexico. A proposal had been made and accepted that night, and now a lifetime later they were still partners in crime as she once put it.
"Because you asked." she said.
"But other's asked, and you always said no. Why me, not that I'm complaining you understand." the man said.
His wife gave him one of those enigmatic smiles.
"They were lousy shots." she said. "You don't expect me to marry someone who can't shoot with me? Do you?" she said laughing.
"Yeah, but you've always outshot me when it comes to real targets with scores. Not just a Sprite can sitting on the ground." he pointed out.
The woman turned and picked up one of the knives from the wooden tray on the dresser top. She pulled open the blade of a Sardinian Resolza, and handed it to her husband.
"Let me see it shave."
The man was mystified, but having faith in his partner of over four decades, he lightly stroked it on his arm just below the elbow. A postage stamp size of bit or arm was now smooth as a babies bottom.
"And this means what?" asked the man.
"Well, you don't expect me to marry a man who can't sharpen a knife, do you? Remember that picnic on the bank of the Guadalope River? My daddy's old scout knife that I was carrying was a little dull, and you pulled out that itty bitty stone from your pack and in a few minutes you did just that. You shaved clean a bit of your arm. Well for the next 42 years I've had nice sharp kitchen knives. A girl has to think of things like that." she said laughing.
"And here I thought it was my great personality! Okay, I'm hungry, lets go eat." he said, and held out his arm.
The woman slipped her arm through his, and they left for their dinner reservation.
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The happy couple after 42 years.
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