Knives. They Kill You.

I have kind of always been afraid of knives. I just get the creepy feeling that they are going to hurt me. Like they have special powers.

So if you accidentally drop one, it will gain so much momentum as it falls through the air that it will almost certainly stab you through the foot.

And if you reach into a sink full of dishes, the knife will be veiled there by a cloak of invisibility only to appear in your palm as you grab to pick something up. Then you lose your pinky.

You don't even want to know about the dangers that are lurking when you're cutting up your steak and potatoes.


It all started with "one of those things sisters do."


I was happily singing a silly song of some sort, when Monica demanded, "Lauren, stop singing."

I looked at her bitterly. I stopped singing.  And I started humming.

"STOP humming!"

So I started whistling.

"STOP MAKING NOISES FROM YOUR MOUTH!!!"

So I tapped my fingers on the table.

At this point, Monica had had enough, so she grabbed a carving knife, stomped over, and held the knife up to my neck threatening, "If you don't shut up right now, I will slit your throat."

I did not make a peep.

Instead, I found other ways of pissing her off, like wearing my glasses halfway down my nose and refusing to push them up. I'm still kind of fuzzy on how this was going to boost me ahead....