My father gave my brother a swiss army knife when we were little. I can remember that day clearly; it was definetly a summer day in philly. He was showing off his new knife, but he couldn't open it. Persistance combined with a stubborn boy is defiently a recipe for disaster. he found the safty lock and opened it; and proceeded to sharpen a stick he would later chase me with. It wasn't long for my grandma (who was suposed to be watching) to yell for us to stop and come inside.
Thursday, October 1, 2009
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