I keep starting a post then moving on to another one without finishing the first one and now I have like a crap-ton of four sentence drafts staring at me like I’m a loser. Luckily, this came in the mail the other day.
Me: What the…Why?
Volker: It’s here! Now, I can sharpen all of our knives and even your scissors!
Me: Don’t you go near my scissors with that thing. We already have a whetstone, honing rod, and a couple of those red things with a sharpening slot which, now that I think about it, is probably red so the blood from freshly severed fingers will blend right in…why do we need this?
Volker: All of those things are crap. This is like magic.
Me: How much did this magic cost?
Volker: That’s not important.
He then gathered up all of our knives and headed out to his shop* – he was sort of bouncing – this made him very happy.
To show off his work, he came into the kitchen with a freshly sharpened knife and a piece of paper. He sliced the paper and looked at me, all wide-eyed, as he waited for my shrieks of delight and amazement.
Me: What the hell? Ummm. That’s very impressive. I mean, paper…wow.
Volker: I know!
Seriously, y’all, boys are weird.
In all fairness, the knives are now very sharp. Stay tuned for follow-up posts about emergency room visits and how I wish I was ambidextrous. I give it a month.
*We live in Bella Vista, where everything is built into the side of a hill, so our garage has a walk-out basement. This is Volker’s shop. It’s full of cinder blocks, a play station, cigars, a used once bowling ball, testosterone, and knives. I never go in there.
Anyone need a red sharpener thingy that might make you cut off a finger?
American German – language lesson #109
Aber, er ist niedlich. (Abba air ist need-leek) But, he’s cute. That makes up for all of his oddities.