It's Christmas Eve, Bob is out hiking with his friends, and I'm at home doing what he has termed my "womanly duties" of sorting through wedding presents and trying to get things organized. This post will be short; I just thought I'd share with you a brief thought I had while unpacking our beautiful knife set and block from my New York cousins, Jonathan and Alessia.
It's something like an 18-piece set and includes just about anything you could need for standard preparation of any food you'd actually bring home to cook rather than going out and having somebody else cook it for you.
Among this lovely set of knives is a big ol' meat cleaver. I mean one of those that is like 3 inches wide and 6 inches long, the kind you see in horror movies. And no, I didn't think about cleaving food. This is just a small example of the train of thought of people who regularly experience anxiety, are high strung, or watch too many episodes of "Criminal Minds." (Emily Pair, this is for you.)
As I took it out of the little plastic bag and paper sleeve, I look at it and thought, this is exactly the type of knife you see in horror movies. And to continue in that thread, as I looked at it and placed it in its spot in the block, I thought, "Great. Now if anybody breaks in while we're sleeping, they'll go straight for the meat cleaver and hack us to pieces."
*Cue "Psycho" music....