“You don’t suppose I put the knife someplace I typically don’t?” Alf said.
“What knife?” I said.
“You know, the knife,” Alf said.
“You have so many.”
“No I don’t.”
“You have the one for scaling fish, the one for carving wood, the one for cutting down outgrowth on the bushes, and the one you use for cutting grilled steak,” I said.
“That’s not the knife I mean.”
“Then I can’t help you,” I said.
“Clearly,” Alf said.
“Have you tried looking where you keep the dog’s things?” I said.
“Why would it be there?”
“You take it with you on your walks with him.”
“Why would I do that?”
“You said you never know when you have to defend yourself from rattlesnakes, runaway horses, and lost turtles,” I said.
“I said that?”
“No, I made it up. But it sounded good, didn’t it?”
Calvin says, “And slobbering dogs looking for attention.”
2 thoughts on “Cutting Up a Little”
We’re all losing our minds, to say nothing of our cutlery. Has it turned up?
Nope. The dog hid it.