Swiss Army Knives are great. It's a miracle of modern manufacturing that they aren't $300 each.
Some years ago my nephew turned seven so I decided it was time for him to have a knife, and I chose a genuine SAK. I also bought him The Dangerous Book for Boys, which turned out to be a bit of a disappointment, or at least a misleading title.
Following is the letter I set with his knife, and my brother's reply. I've changed the names to protect the innocent.
Happy Birthday Nephew!
I had high hopes for The Dangerous Book For Boys. I envisioned essays on hunting people for sport, making a prison wallet out of a Vicks tube, do-it-yourself punji sticks, etc.. After reading a bit of it however, I decided it wasn't quite dangerous enough. Hence the knife.
This is probably both the best and cruelest gift you'll ever get. It's the best because, well, it's a knife! It's the worst because your parents probably wont let you have it to yourself for a while. Just to be clear, it is YOUR knife, but your parents have unlimited rights to control how and when you use it, which for quite a while will probably be limited and under direct supervision. It's like a gift to the whole family!
Remember, this is not a toy, and it's not make-believe. This is a gateway into the world of adults and must be treated as such. It's a big responsibility, and responsibility often goes hand in hand with pain. If you pretend to be a superhero and do any of the things superheros do with knives it will be taken away from you and you won't see it for another long, long year. If you loose it, well, it just sucks to be you, 'cause I lost knives when I was young and it still hurts.
Even though the temptation to take your knife out of the house will be strong, don't. If you take it to school you'll be kicked out of school and the police will take your knife away and you'll never ever ever see it again. If you ever cut your sister or anyone besides yourself with the knife you'll probably get spanked into the stone age and, needless to say, loose your knife forever.
This is also a test. If you do what your parents tell you and prove that you are responsible and mature with your knife then eventually I'll be able to get you a hatchet and a rifle. If you have tantrums and whine and misbehave with the knife, I'll never be able to convince your parents to let you have those things.
My recommendation is to master the non-cutting blades first. This will teach hand coordination with fewer lacerated fingers. Using the bottle opener to open Daddy's beer seems like a good start. Opening tin cans is also lots of fun, though you'll probably cut yourself on the can lid a few times. Keep at it and you'll find opening cans is very rewarding. It takes a lot of practice to get good with a knife. Take it slow and be careful and you'll eventually cut yourself slightly less often.
Since you will cut yourself, here are some guidelines for bleeding: Don't bleed on nice things. Blood is really hard to get out, and if you bleed all over the nice things in the house your parents won't be very excited about letting you use the knife. Scream and cry as little as possible. It doesn't help anything, it upsets your parents, and it is wasted energy since as a knife owner, you're going to get lots of cuts in your lifetime. Get used to it. Stare resolutely into the distance and say something like "it's just a flesh wound".
Most cuts are really not that bad. When you cut yourself, put pressure on the cut with your hand, then politely ask your parents to put a bandaid on your cut. A bandaid and a little pressure and they'll stop bleeding in a couple minutes and stop hurting in a couple hours. However, if when you grab the cut it looks like you're squeezing a blood-soaked sponge, you need to let one of your parents know as quickly as possible. Limited screaming and bleeding on nice things is OK in this situation. Ask your dad about the time he cut the end of his thumb off with my hatchet.
So Nephew, Happy Birthday and enjoy your journey into the wonderful and sometimes bloody world of knives. We’ve included a doctor kit for your sister, so be nice to her…you might need it.
love Uncle Irreverent and Aunt Doubtful (who, for the record, didn't think this was nearly as good an idea as I did.)A few days later I got this from my brother:
Dear Irreverent and Doubtful,
Thank you so much for the great birthday gifts and birthday letters for the kids! I think there is more boys' wisdom, dangerous and otherwise, in your letter than in the whole dangerous book for boys. Nephew greatly enjoyed having me read the letter to him, and was quite interested to hear about the incident with my thumb and the hatchet. The letter for Niece was also quite appropriate, and she carried around the little doctor's kit for several days. Mom often tells her she has "soft hands, like a doctor", and she has taken this to heart.
On to the irony! Of course Nephew was excited out of his mind to have received his Very Own knife from Uncle Irreverent and very keen to try it out ASAP. Opinions on this went pretty much along gender lines in a predictable fashion, but I said that I would supervise the use. I didn't have any beer handy (a sad state of affairs), so we opted to have Nephew cut the scotch tape along the seam of another gift box. He couldn't get the short blade open, so he went for the long blade. Holding the box with his left hand, he went for the piece of tape on the right, but the blade caught on the cardboard. The intuitive solution was to apply more force, and when the cardboard gave way the blade continued on to the obvious stopping point, his left hand. All of this took about 20 seconds, and I'd say I saw where it was going about 5 seconds too late. Lots of ensuing "appropriate responses" ensued following the guidelines outlined in your letter, and after getting the bleeding under control with direct pressure (no blood on anything expensive - yayy!), we headed off to urgent care. They took us right in for triage, wrapped him up, and we waited just a little while for the stitches (four). The doctor was really great, and Niece acted as his assistant. Nephew was quite brave, and only hollered a little bit when the stitching started a bit before the anesthetic was fully engaged.
Reactions to the whole situation also went pretty much along gender lines; Mother has been relatively mortified about the whole thing, I am exceedingly proud of Nephew for being such a fast learner, and he has been having a blast telling all his friends about the knife, the accident, and the stitches. Since the accident he has opened a few beers for me but hasn't regained interest in cutting anything just yet. I reckon we'll go hand-in-hand for the next cutting tasks, and he’s just fine with that.
Anyway, all's well that ends well, and we are all doing great.
Much love,
My response:
Dear Brother,
After reading your letter and seeing the photos I recalled having a twinge of doubt over the age-appropriateness of the knife when I bought it, and I'd like to thank you for proving beyond any doubt that it was indeed the best gift ever! I mean, how many presents can you think of that will turn a seven-year-olds birthday into a seminal event that is seared into the collective consciousness of the entire family? And stitches on his very first try! I couldn't be more proud. I had to cut myself dozens of times before I got stitches, though I've since learned that many of the cuts actually should have been stitched up, but that might have cost money. The fact that a major wound was the result of NOT having any beer handy is puzzling, but I guess it just goes to show that the mysteries of the universe are endless indeed.
I'm sure that while driving to the Urgent Care Nephew's Mother could talk about nothing except what marvelous judgement I showed by sending Nephew a knife before I send him a hatchet. I'm rather proud of that bit of restraint myself. No doubt when the story was relayed to the doctor he got a serious look on his face and said something to the extent of "You know, if Uncle Irreverent hadn't been so responsible, Nephew here could have lost an entire finger." I notice that Niece was so excited to go to the Urgent Care that she didn't even change out of her jammies...now that's a kid that really wanted to see the Urgent Care! For the record I wanted to put a full suture kit, replete with syringes, lydocane and 5.0 silk sutures in Niece’s doctor kit, but Aunt Doubtful wouldn't let me. She's doing a pretty good job of hiding it, but I know that now she feels pretty dumb for not listening to me.
I've since tried to find a copy of the knife safety book "Don't Do What Johnny Don't Does", but apparently it's out of print. While it's amazingly hard to remember, most of knife safety seems to boil down to "don't cut towards any part of your body". Also, perhaps safety goggles would be appropriate for a while. I fear that Mother’s opinion of me might suffer if Nephew had to go on medical marijuana while healing from his eye stitches.
Glad it all ended OK.
