Several months ago, my son completed the requirements to carry a pocket knife as part of the Cub Scouts. Though he was only ten years old, we felt that he was responsible enough to be trusted with one and, as a homeschooler, we wouldn't have to worry about him making national headlines for bringing a knife to school. When Christmas rolled around, Zach was presented with his very own Swiss Army knife. As we expected, he has used it carefully and has never had a problem with it.
As is true in many families, the eldest often serves as the trailblazer. Once the knife trail had been blazed, followers were needed. My oldest daughter, Maddie, quickly stepped up to the plate. "Daddy," she began, "I want a pocket knife for my birthday."
"I responded the way any normal father would. "Mom and I will discuss it," I said. So we did and in the end, our sweet little nine-year-old girl got her very own Swiss Army knife. A pocket knife is easy for a boy since jeans have pockets. Girls, on the other hand, have some difficulty as their dresses and skirts aren't always equipped with the prerequisite pocket that is necessary for a pocket knife to fulfill its function. Not to worry, my artistic daughter quickly fashioned a wrist purse out of scraps of fabric and ribbon that was just big enough for one knife.
Today at church I noticed that she was wearing a new birthday dress, but didn't have her handy purse on her wrist. "Oh, well," I assumed. "She must have left her knife at home today." How wrong I was. It all became clear partway through the sermon, when I noticed that she had repurposed her bulletin and made it into a flute. The flute, however, wouldn't be complete until it had holes in the top of it. Being the resourceful girl she is, she hiked up the left side of her new dress, ran her hand all the way up her thigh and pulled out a shiny Swiss Army knife.
I've seen that move in spy movies before when the leading lady pulls out a hidden weapon during the party at a foreign embassy, but this was my daughter! My mind immediately started thinking about thigh holsters and hidden scabbards. What other surprises did my little girl have hidden? She knits. Did she have knitting needles taped to her leg? She likes to bake. Could there be a rolling pin somewhere? "Where did you have that?" I whispered, maybe a little too loudly.
"In my pocket," she said innocently as she revealed the shorts she had put on underneath her dress.
"Don't do that during church," I said turning my attention back to the twenty-third Psalm. "And if you have any other gadgets in there, leave them alone."
By the time we got home, the knife was tucked safely back in its pocket, hidden from view by the dress and the flute was complete with all the necessary holes. I know Maddie wants nothing more than to grow up to be a mommy, but for a brief moment today, I feared she might pursue a career in covert affairs. Perhaps this is God's way of telling us it's time to add to the family again, just to ensure that her maternal instincts don't grow stagnant
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