What Was He Thinking ?

Some friends of my sister are moving back to England, and rather than ship their furniture overseas, they were getting rid of most of it. We went up this weekend to give my sister a hand moving some items into her house. I stayed at her house with the kids, while my husband and brother-in-law got the easy job of hauling furniture in volcanic like heat. When they returned, my husband was excited to show me a lovely table he had been given, which was now sitting in my sister's driveway. Almost as an after thought he muttered quietly that the knives on top of the table were now ours as well - or more specifically for Grady.

I wasn't really paying attention - my focus was more on the breakfast that my sister had promised us after all the moving was finished, so I was somewhat shocked when Grady walked in with a shit-eating grin carrying a machete. Yes, you read correctly, a machete. This thing had an 18" * 4" blade, and was used to hack through the jungles of Costa Rica. The machete alone was enough to cause me to hyper-ventilate, but then I see what Grady has in his other hand, some kind of ceremonial dagger, at least a foot long, with a wickedly curved point.  By now I'm apoplectic, looking accusingly at my sister.  "I know my husband is an idiot" I said "But I would have credited you with a bit more sense. What on earth were you thinking, giving a machete and a dagger to a ten year old?"  Lesley's response was that she thought he could hang them on his wall.  Of course, that all makes sense now, let him keep his weapons of mass destruction in his bedroom.

As I am shooting my husband hostile looks, promising him that he and I are going to have a "little talk" when we get home, Grady decides to chime in. "If a killer breaks in mum" he begins, "All I had to defend myself with before, was my multi-function pocket tool. Now I can hack his arms off with my machete". This comment earns Rob another malevolent glare. Just what every mother wants to hear from her son. My sister, in a vain attempt to avert the impending hostility, suggested that he could always keep his machete at her house, as if Grady was going to give it up that easily, especially with all these marauding killers on the loose. I think even she, who has lived a lifetime of never being wrong, was beginning to see the error of her ways, particularly when Grady asked her if he could use his machete to cut down one of her trees. 

Eventually, the knives were replaced in their scabbards and stored safely in the van. Meanwhile, I was fervently hoping that we didn't  get pulled over on the way home - a holiday weekend and the police are out in force - and get charged under the offensive weapons act. I'm still undecided as to where we are going to keep them, but I'm even more concerned that by the end of the summer, I may be sorely tempted to use them myself. Meanwhile my husband thinks that all is forgiven, just because he provided me with material for my blog. All I can say is what the hell was he thinking ?