My Grandmother’s Electric Knife

 My grandmother died in 1983. Sometime around 2000, my mother gave me her electric knife that had only been used a couple of times and was still in the box. I promptly put it in a cupboard and never used it. Fast forward to today.

Me: Since you complained about how I cut the watermelon up last time, I thought I’d let you do it this time.

Austin: I would, but we don’t have an electric knife.

Me: Yes, we do. It’s in the cupboard. I’ve never used it, but it still works.

We test it and it does indeed work.

Austin, after putting it together: I don’t think this is right. The button…

Me: The blade is upside down.

Austin: That’s not the right word. It’s… 

Yada yada. We flip the blade around.

Austin, after cutting up half the watermelon, starts to have trouble with the knife and takes the blade out, fools with it, puts the blade in.

Austin: I think I broke it.

More fooling around with the blade.

Me: The blade is upside down.

Austin: I still think that’s the wrong word. You want to use something else.

Me: I want to use that knife to stab you.