Wednesday, 23 October 2019

Pocket knives

- you know what I mean  don't you? Those items beloved particularly by the male of the species. 
And yes, some are actually kept in their pockets. I  have reservations about this.
The Senior Cat has no less than three pocket knives. There is the tiny one that I am sure was originally intended for a woman as it has a white handle printed with pink flowers. This one appears in odd places around the house if  the Senior Cat has needed to cut something like string - but only if he cannot undo the knot or the string is too long.
There is the middle size one. It is rarely used but it can appear both inside and outside the house. I found it on top of the general rubbish bin some days ago and returned it to where I knew the Senior Cat would find it again.
And then there is your standard Swiss Army one. That is kept in the pocket of your trousers of course - where else? It is a thing of great use - if the Senior Cat is to be believed. It is red. It has the capacity to cut things. (There are two blades on his.) There are two screwdrivers as well. I think there is a bottle opener and there may be some sort of tweezers. All potentially useful I suppose.
I don't know what else is packed compactly into the space available. I doubt they have ever been used. I have never used the knife myself.
The Senior Cat worries if he cannot find it. It would be like much younger humans not being able to find their mobile phones. 
Now I was doing some washing this morning. Among the items I was doing was a filthy dirty pair of trousers the Senior Cat had been wearing while pottering in the garden.
And yes, the pocket knife was in the trouser pocket. I removed it. When the Senior Cat appeared for breakfast I told him,
    "I nearly washed your pocket knife."
    "What? Where is it? Is it all right?"
    "It's fine. I'll put it on your desk."  

    "No, give it to me now please."
    "No, you can't put it in your pyjama pocket."
He conceded that point reluctantly. I put it on his desk instead.
    "You know there is something missing from your pocket knife don't you?" I told him.
     "What? It hasn't been damaged has it?"
     "No, you just don't have that implement which is supposed to remove stones from the hooves of horses," I said.
Now why did he nearly throw the muesli container at me?

1 comment:

Allison said...

Daddy always, always, always had a pocket knife in his pocket. It wasn't large at all but was always and constantly useful.