So the other day, Pete and I were busy doing something or the other, me upstairs, him outside, and Anju was napping.  Nik was playing by himself downstairs. 

I heard the stool getting pushed around, so I decided to make my way downstairs.  Just in case.  And saw this:

Nik standing on the stool by the counter where I keep the set of knives.  A nectarine in his hand.  A knife in his other hand, sawing away at the nectarine.

I slowly approached him and nonchalantly asked what he was doing (AAAARGH!).

Nik: “I cutting, mom!”

I have to find somewhere else to put those darn knives. 

Some place high.


2 thoughts on “Knives

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