The Tsunami Knife

One of my wonderful memories that I had as a child growing up was when we would drive up to the dam to see my grandparents. My grandfather would always give my dad a pocket knife. Or if they would come to see us he would give my dad a pocket knife. My dad would reciprocate with giving my grandfather a knife that he had. It was like the way they spoke their love to each other without words. My grandfather didn't ever throw out "I love you's". I think that was his way he showed his love. My dad would always beam and get his "new" pocket knife out and show me.

I remember thinking as a child what a neat tradition it would be to see that passed on to my child.

When my red-headed son was five he became interested in pocket knives. I wasn't too keen on him being so young so my hubster and I told him that he could get a pocket knife on his 7th birthday. My child doesn't forget ANYTHING especially if it is a gift for him!

So for almost 2 years when we would be at a store that had pocket knives that he would see we would have to say that whole "not until you are 7 son!" phrase over and over. I swear when he was 5 I didn't think the day would come when he would be 7 and get his own knife. It just didn't occur to me that 7 was just a few days away from 5.

On his birthday he got what he had so been coveting....his knife.

He went around for days telling everyone that he got a "tsunami knife". At first we didn't know what he was saying but then I remembered what we bought him.....

Not a "tsunami knife" but a Swiss Army Knife!

He can file his nails, pick his teeth, get a splinter out and cut his own hair after he stabs a beetle for dinner with his Swiss Army knife.